


Fake Empire

by WhyMrSpook



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Bones is a Good Friend, Declarations Of Love, Drabble Collection, Excessively, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Hurt Kirk, Jim Has Issues, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Past Relationship(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Bones, Sharing a Bed, Smart Kirk, Star Trek Beyond, Star Trek: AOS, Star Trek: Into Darkness, Starfleet Academy, Starship Enterprise (Star Trek), Swearing, Tarsus IV, angst like you would not believe, but expect angst, everyone on the enterprise is adorable, like i'll throw in some fluff and lovely moments occasionally
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-10-22 04:51:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 30,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10690092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhyMrSpook/pseuds/WhyMrSpook
Summary: “Bones!” Jim clambered onto Bones’ bed and shook his friend awake, knowing full well that if he were fully conscious, Bones would be calling him an over-excited little puppy at that exact moment. “Bones I got my results!”“STI free, atta boy. You’re a medical marvel.” Bones replied sleepily, clapping a hand against Jim’s shoulder briefly before rolling over and burying his head into his pillows again.-A series of short insights into the relationship between Jim and Bones, spanning from their academy days to post-beyond. Non-linear chapters.





	1. Half Awake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Academy; Jim convinces Bones to join him for a night out.

“Bones!” Jim clambered onto Bones’ bed and shook his friend awake, knowing full well that if he were fully conscious, Bones would be calling him an over-excited little puppy at that exact moment. “Bones I got my results!”

“STI free, atta boy. You’re a medical marvel.” Bones replied sleepily, clapping a hand against Jim’s shoulder briefly before rolling over and burying his head into his pillows again. No matter how tired he was, Bones always had one sarcastic comment in him before he decided to ignore Jim’s idiotic overexcitement. Normally, Jim would just snort and go find someone else to annoy, but this was too important.

“What? No! I passed my interspecies ethics exam!” Not just passed it, he’d fucking aced it, which no-one had expected considering the multiple screw ups he made on a weekly basis in real life. When he was a Captain he’d sure as hell have to make sure his officers knew what they were doing, because he didn’t think for a second his grade would stand up in practice. But that was a problem for a later date. As of that evening, they were celebrating. “C’mon Bones, I fucking passed. Let’s hit the town!”

Bones _had_ to want to blow off some steam as much as he did - he’d been putting up with Jim’s incessant revision and feeding him through it for the last week straight. It was nearing the end of a long, bloody semester too – they deserved this.

“Well done, kid. But I just got off a twelve hour shift, there’s no way in hell I’m leaving this bed.”

Despite his disappointment, there wasn’t much Jim could say in protest against that. Jim sometimes forgot that Bones was on one of the most brutal courses Starfleet had to offer – sometimes it felt like he was Jim’s own private Doctor, considering the amount of time he spent looking after him. He wasn’t underestimating when he said that, either. Bones had an entire medical kit on his shelf dedicated to Jim, and an ever-growing list of allergies to watch out for. Bones was there on the bad nights when Jim was physically sick with PTSD and nightmares, and there on the good nights when they both got fucking obliterated at the local dives and spent the following morning taking it in turns in their bathroom to throw up. He could let this one night slide, if Bones wasn’t up to it.

“Take Mitchell instead.” Bones said, just a fraction too quietly for Jim to really think that was sincere. He knew Bones didn’t like Gary very much, and nor did he at that moment. But he let the undertone of bitterness slide.

“No, that’s okay. I’ll take you out for breakfast in the morning instead.” He clasped Bones’ hand in his, pushing out any thoughts of Gary Mitchell and grinning at his achievement. He’d actually passed. He no longer had to worry about a giant stain on his Academy record and grades. He’d worked damn hard and been rewarded.

“You told Pike yet?” Bones murmured, getting the gist of Jim’s inability to discuss Gary just then, as ever, and blinking rapidly until he finally locked eyes with Jim. “You know he’ll wanna know.” Chris was nothing if not supportive in Jim’s intellectual achievements, and occasionally either getting him out of trouble or making him truly fucking suffer for all the trouble he’d caused. Regardless of the weird parental type role the older man had taken in Jim’s life, he was damn keen on not showing favouritism. Bones was right, though. He would want to speak to Jim after the annoying, anxious little git he’d been about the exam for weeks.

“No, I was going to see him tomorrow before combat.”

“Well go see him now, idiot, before he finds out from someone else and you miss his ecstatic reaction.” Bones squeezed his hand gently and then let go, dragging himself up from his mattress and sitting. Not without his usual flair of dramatics though – Bones groaned deeply, in the way Jim normally only ever heard from him before sunrise, when he was getting up for a shift. Bones, for all the determination and perseverance he had, was not a morning person. It was funny really, because his friend had trained himself to stay awake for hours without so much as yawning - once he was actually awake. Jim, on the other hand, could spring awake at the drop of a hat but he’d be damned if he didn’t need a nap every three hours.

“Go on, see Pike. I’ll be ready to go out in an hour.”

Jim grinned widely. “Really?”

“Yes, god help me.” He kicked his covers back. “Only because I’m off for the next three days, anyway.” Bones had a particular way of grumbling affectionately that made Jim feel like laughing endlessly. People being too nice made him suspicious. Other people hated him. It was only really Bones and Pike who seemed to get the balance right – that’s why they were just about the only people alive that he trusted. “Get to it, you can come and drag me away at 2300.”

“You’re the best, Bones.” Jim flung himself off the bed, grabbing his results envelope. He grinned back at his friend, who looked as if he couldn't really believe what he was agreeing to, but continuing on nonetheless. Bones, luckily, had no trouble with favouritism. Jim knew he was his friend's favourite patient - just as Bones was his favourite Doctor, and Jim had seen a fucking lot of Doctor's in his sorry life. None of the others had such great hair, he thought, watching Bones pad half-naked into their bathroom. “See you soon.” He called after him, and received a sort of agonised groan in response. Jim's grin only widened, and he departed their dorm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying my hand at McKirk.
> 
> Lemme know any feedback or moments you'd like to see.


	2. Reach Out; The Stars are Gone.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Academy; Bones seeks comfort from Jim after a tragedy at the Hospital.

Bones didn’t cry. Not ever. Bones was the strongest person Jim knew in a dozen ways or so. He’d trained himself to endure agonising hospital shifts, on his feet for hours on end without so much as a toilet break as he fought damn hard to not have a reason to have to stop working. He never gave up, always battled on until the last minute.

Jim hadn’t noticed at first, because the good Doctor always made sure he went out with Jim and partied as hard as all the other cadets. It didn’t matter he had a few years on them, because he was Bones, and he could drink them down to the ground and then make sure they weren’t dead any damn night. Of course, the years went on and work got more intense. Jim noticed it, felt it, lived it. That was just the way it was. Only it was their last year- their last damn semester- and he wanted him and Bones to go out with a bang. Only Bones wasn’t there.

Jim studied just fine with Bones around. He’d learned to study anywhere, back in the days where he’d had to, so he didn’t get distracted unless he wanted to be. If Bones were there, he was more likely to get annoyed by Jim’s fidgeting and, the classic, ‘Jim, get your damn feet off me I’m trying to figure out why this man is still dying despite all the correct treatments’. In Bones’ absence, though, Jim sat at his desk and his hand kept moving, writing, working studiously, until his roommate finally staggered in at some godawful hour and either started studying with Jim or collapsed onto his bed and passed out. Once he’d passed out on Jim’s bed and that had been hilarious and infuriating.

Jim looked up at the door suddenly, anticipation rising in his chest. He could hear those familiar shuffling footsteps of a very tired and probably very grouchy Leonard McCoy. The door beeped softly to indicate the lock was being accessed, and then the various lights of their dorm cast out into the corridor, onto the good Doctor’s face. Jim’s breath caught in his throat, and he dimly registering the noise of his pen dropping onto his desk.

“Bones?”

It was his best friend in all but soul. Showered, apparently, and dressed in the clothes Jim knew were his spare clothes for the hospital, stored in his locker for emergencies. For all intents and purposes, he was a fully functioning, clean human being. Only his eyes were bloodshot and unseeing, with bags beneath them dark and far beyond any extent Jim had ever seen on his friend. It shouldn’t have been a surprise, because Jim hadn’t even seen him since Tuesday morning and it was Wednesday evening now, but even so. Bones kipped wherever he could and generally seemed to maintain the façade of a highly pretty and flawless man no matter what – unlike Jim, who only needed to have one nightmare to look pale and sickly for the next seven hours.

Bones stepped into the room and dropped his bag, the thud of books within almost ominous. They’d both gotten themselves into situations where they’d driven themselves to the edge with studying before, and Jim hoped to god this wasn’t one of those times because he hadn’t been there for Bones. Hadn’t even gone to take his friend coffee or real-world food, opposed to the crap the hospital served up to its staff.

“Why are you still up?” Bones asked gruffly, his voice laced with exhaustion. He didn’t look Jim in the eye as he spoke though, walking to his bed and sitting atop the covers, slowly reaching for his shoes and easing them off.

Jim held up his notepad briefly, the pen sliding off onto the floor, and showed his friend the endless scribbles of equations there. Bones didn't bother too look over though, so Jim amended. “Studying.” He sounded nervous himself, like he was speaking to a stranger. “Bones- what’s wrong?”

Bones dropped his second shoe without grace, raising a hand to his bedpost and seeming to hold on to it. “Rough shift, is all.” Haunted. That was the look in his eyes. It was a sort of shadow that Jim recognised all too well. The sort of look that spoke volumes about trauma and hurt and deep, agonising remorse. Bones didn’t seem to even believe his own explanation, though, because he looked across at Jim finally and shook his head. “In all my years, Jim, that was…”

Jim was out of his chair in a flash, crossing their room to Bones, perching beside him and enveloping him in a fierce hug. He didn’t know what else to do or say, because there didn’t seem to be anything he’d ever found remotely comforting about not being able to keep people alive. It was an incomparable failure, even if Bones had done everything he knew on earth to help them. Even if the entire hospital had dedicated itself to a single patient, it still wouldn't be enough for Bones. 

“I’m a good Doctor, Jim. The damn best. But an _entire_ family. The mother first. Then a twelve year old daughter. Four year old little boy. Uncle, thirty-two. A six year old. Then their father. We were left with this girl. Sixteen years old, sarcastic as anything. She was conscious - she was improving! We had round the clock care, we were doing everything on earth-”

“Bones…”

“And then her organs just started switching off. One by one. We watched the lights on the computers just… switch off. They just flickered out.”

Jim didn’t realise Leonard was crying until he suddenly shuddered violently against Jim’s chest. He held him tighter, pressing his lips into his hair and trying hard not to cry himself. Bones had survived rough shifts before. Deaths before. Losing children before. Yeah, normally it put him into a rotten mood for anything up to a week. But Jim had never seen him so immediately debilitated by a loss. It pained Jim to his core, because Bones was supposed to be invincible. Bones was... strong. He was emotional, sure, but never anything that a bourbon and sarcastic comment couldn't work through.

“I’m so sorry, Bones. That’s awful. That fucking sucks.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.”

“If you did, you wouldn’t be you.” Jim agreed softly. “You care, Bones, so much. It’s what makes you such a good Doctor, okay. You don’t give up. Not ever. So when things are taken beyond your control, you take it so hard that I think you’re almost too human.” He snorted. “You need to sleep.”

“I could have passed out on the walk home and not cared.” Bones agreed darkly, sniffing and straightening himself up again. “T Four?”

“Sure.” Jim smiled, tugging his shirt off. The fact they still used the code would probably be funny one day, in hindsight. He didn't think either of them retained any pride now - it didn't make sense for them to not just ask each other outright anymore. It had been three years, after all. Yet the code remained. Tarsus IV _. Please, don’t let me be alone tonight_. He helped Bones out of his shirt and dumped their items on Jim’s bed, knowing he'd have to deal with the mess in the morning. He manoeuvred Bones under the covers then, joining him closely, platonically, purely comfortingly. At first, they'd not really touched. Bones had maybe wound a hand into Jim's hair if necessary. Now, Jim cuddled into his friend and kissed his hair easily.

“Sleep, Bones.” He instructed softly, and in reply he felt a final sort of squeeze to his hand, before Leonard's eyes drifted closed. Jim held his lips against Bones' head for long after he suspected his friend had drifted off. 


	3. Laying in my Bed, Ceiling Gazing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Into Darkness; After losing Pike, Bones goes to Jim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from 'Ceiling Gazing' by Mark Kozelek & Jimmy LaValle.

Bones found him barely hours after the attack on San Francisco, when the panic had subsided and he’d finally staggered into his apartment. It was a miracle that a Starfleet Chief Medical Officer had managed to escape working after the disaster- and yet in waltzed Doctor McCoy, interrupting his quiet discussion with Spock about the nature of the attacks on Starfleet, and promptly kicking Spock out of Jim’s room - to ‘go bug Uhura or sleep, goddamnit’. Much to Jim’s dissatisfaction, Spock complied without a comment. It had to be a first for Spock where McCoy was concerned, and Jim never thought he’d see the day that he _wished_ Spock would argue with his friend. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be alone with Bones, he did. He knew, logically, he needed his best friend. He just wasn’t sure he was ready for it.

The tired look somewhere in the depths of Spock’s eyes reminded him with acute precision that he wasn’t the only one grieving. He’d made that mistake when Spock’s mother had died – when he’d lost his planet. The guilt that had squeezed on his heart surged quickly to his lungs and heart; it made his throat tighten and his stomach twist uncomfortably. Jim was selfish. Always selfish. _Selfish_. Spock had worked closely with Pike too. They’d been friends. Jim had no more right to feeling upset over his death than anyone. And Spock _did_ feel – strongly, too. He’d been kind to stay with Jim, but he probably wanted to go and meditate or see Uhura, or sleep like Bones said. It was so fucking selfish to want him to stay.

“Rest well, Spock. I’ll be in touch.” Jim muttered, winning the battle against his constricted throat and forcing himself to meet Spock’s concerned gaze. The brief moment confirmed his friend was not irritated – he didn’t hate Jim. He bid his farewells to both Jim and Bones and then departed, quietly and stiffly, like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders again. Jim wanted to help, wanted to fucking shut up the voice in his head that said _selfish_ with alcohol or a punchbag, wanted to find the man who killed Pike and fucking rip his heart out of his chest and crush it in his fist, try to recreate the same sensation Jim couldn’t get rid of at that moment.

Bones, apparently, had other concerns. The moment the door slid shut behind Spock, he turned on Jim, grimacing in that usual disapproving way at what he saw on Jim’s face. Whether that was the barely contained rage or the untreated bloody marks, Jim didn’t know. Spock had been equally as fucked up really, and neither of them had said a damn thing about the other getting treatment. They were both as bad as each other.

“The next time you walk out of hospital untreated, I’ll kill you.”

Jim snorted. “No, you won’t.” His attempt at amusement, even derision, was unsuccessful because his voice came out only as a whisper and the haunted look in his eyes didn’t dare break into a glare. “There were people who actually needed treatment there, Bones. I was just in the way.”

“You are about the most valuable thing that Starfleet own. It’s their damn job to keep you alive.” Bones pointed out, unhelpfully in Jim’s opinion. He took Spock’s vacated seat, unsettled and irritated still, perching as if he thought Jim might collapse at any moment. Of course, they’d lived together for three years, and Leonard had learned when not to touch Jim. When to keep his distance until Jim was ready to accept his help.

He locked eyes with his best friend, and found the look of irritation had faded already. Instead, Bones looked at him like he was dying. He sort of felt like he was. Christopher Pike was dead. Jim hadn’t been quick enough to figure it out- hadn’t been able to stop the attack before the damage had become irreparable. Irreplaceable.

The second his eyes had found Pike. The second he’d seen that smart-ass, uptight, occasional bastard of a mentor. In that single second, he physically felt a cord on his heart snap.

_I dare you to do better._

He had no right to be dead.

_“Hey, Pike!”_

_“That’s Captain Pike to you, Cadet.” Chris said, but let him into his office anyway. He always did. A hundred impromptu meetings that told Jim he was wanted there - that said Pike genuinely cared about getting him through the academy. Jim knew he’d be Pike’s First Officer one day. “I heard you passed first year. Well done.”_

_“That’s it? Passed, man? I aced first year. You watch, I’ll be a Captain before I’m 30.”_

_Pike was silent for a beat, before his face broke into a smile and he reached for two glasses from his drawer. “I don’t doubt it, Cadet.”_

 Pike was one of the few people who believed in Jim.

_Kirk, I'm promoting you to First Officer._

Pike was the reason he’d joined Starfleet. The reason he’d not given up on the Academy. The reason that he’d met Bones, who knew him inside and out. Spock, who was his second half on that bridge and he _knew_ it. Uhura and Sulu and Scotty, who could drink him under the table and comply with his orders better than any bridge crew in Starfleet. Young Chekov, who Jim had seen around campus and found impossibly young – and now that they worked together, his feelings hadn’t changed. Chekov was all wide eyes and innocence and puppy-dog adoration. Jim wasn’t worthy of him – any of them. They were his friends. Bones was his _family_.

“I thought keeping me alive was your job.” Jim said. He didn’t even attempt trying to sound sarcastic. It was just a fact. He’d probably be dead five times over from allergies without Bones’ constant presence in his life, let alone the other messes he’d gotten himself into.

“Don’t you dare.” Bones said quietly, and Jim suddenly knew he’d crossed one of those unspoken moral lines that Bones had drawn a long time ago. “You’re not my duty, Jim, you’re my privilege.”

It was probably the first time Leonard had put it quite so succinctly, and the words cut through Jim’s grief like a knife. He could feel his shame and hurt bubbling up beneath the surface, and he swivelled on his chair like he wanted to get up, escape, get to Bones; he wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter, because he couldn’t move. He didn’t have the remotest confidence that his own muscles would be able to get him from that chair. “Leonard-”

Bones shifted closer ever so subtly. Jim saw, and his fingers twitched – his normal reaction would be to reach out to him. But this wasn’t normal. Bones had seen him at almost his most fucked up, but this was off the charts. This was a whole other avenue of crazy that Jim didn’t even know how to cope with. Leonard seemed calm, though, like he could take it all in his stride. Take Jim in his stride.

“I’m sorry, Jim,” He said, softly. “I’m so sorry.”

Jim retracted sharply, unaware he’d even been leaning closer to Bones. His heart pounding in his chest was an unwelcome reminder that he was, in fact, alive. Alive, always, surviving even when everyone he loved left him. Surviving when others, so much worthier, crumbled to dust around him. His father. Grandparents. Tarsus – his Aunt and Uncle. Good, decent people. children, young and fragile and terrified. The kind lady who’d given him free chips at the diner by his school when he traipsed in, bruised and hungry, in the school holidays. Everyone perished and despite the universe’s best fucking efforts, he survived.

Maybe he’d even lose Bones, one day. He didn’t think he could survive that one. Not mentally, in any case. That would be the last straw. The last snapping chord that let him descend into sheer insanity.

Jim’s moment of hesitation, his pounding fear of contact, abandoned him. He could no longer even consider pushing Leonard away. He allowed himself to move closer again. Or, perhaps, he forced his stiff spine forward and made himself reach out. Bones moved from his chair in an instant and wrapped himself around Jim in a familiar manner, just in time to muffle Jim’s first sob. Strong, steady arms clasped him close. A hand worked into his hair and stroked rhythmically, assuredly. A Doctor’s hands, always so sure and stable. The sensation was familiar and warm and comforting, and it unlocked something in Jim he couldn’t even process. He only cried harder, grasping beneath Bones’ jacket and winding his fingers into the fabric of his shirt, and not caring one ounce that he was wetting it with tears, and probably snot. Bones was a Doctor. He’d seen much worse.

“He’s gone.” Jim tried to say, but the words were warped with tears and breathlessness and utter horror. “Bones-”

“I know. He was so proud of you, Jim.”

Jim shook his head rapidly, overwhelmed by another batch of sobs. Pike wasn’t proud of him, he’d been annoyed by him. Embarrassed. Jim wasn’t ready to be a Captain. Jim had failed him- failed his challenge.

“Yes he was. Don’t give me any of that shit. He wouldn’t have made you his First Officer otherwise.”

_He’d be Pike’s First Officer one day._

“You _know_ he cared about you, Jim, I know it.” Bones’ voice by his ear was low and firm. He had a singular knack for sometimes being the one person Jim could blatantly ignore, and the one he needed most to tell him what was true and what was product of his own vicious perceptions. There was no one else now. Spock sure as hell tried, but he could barely truly understand his own emotions – let alone deal with Jim’s.

Pike had been able to.

_How did you find me?_

_I know you better than you think I do_

Bones was his only family now.

“Captain James T. Kirk, you’re going to get the Enterprise back. You better be damned sure that was always what he wanted. You have a second chance, Jimmy. Don’t let words spoken in the heat of the moment ruin your memory of him. _I_ believe in you, and you can sure as hell drop the idea that Pike didn’t. A pig’s eye he didn’t.”

Jim’s fingers slowly unfurled and he nodded, head throbbing and eyes burning with tears, still. He pulled away from their embrace; Bones’ hands slipped from his hair and down to his neck, forcing him to look up at the ever so worried expression. He relented, taking in a shaky breath.

“Okay. You can check me over now.”

* * *

Bones tried hard when he was dealing with Jim to remain Bones, and Jim knew it. The Hypos always took him by surprise and the tricorder was a constant, almost like an annoying buzzing insect constantly at his ear. That way, Jim couldn’t forget that Bones was his friend. That his care was more than scans and charts and prescriptions. It was gentle touches and interlaced fingers and an unspoken love so deep it almost soothed the agony of grief in his lungs, choking him still.

Occasionally though, Bones couldn’t help it. Jim didn’t mind on this occasion, because after his break down he found he sort of didn’t want to be held anymore. He wanted to be angry and strong, to react to the attack like he’d been trained to do all his life. With force. So Jim lay still on his bed. He watched Bones’ eyes sharpen until he became Doctor McCoy, tricorder in hand and regenerator in the other, assorted instruments and gauze and cleaning aids lined up on Jim’s bedside table. It was a familiar routine.

He couldn’t feel the pain or the relief from it. He felt so much he couldn’t really distinguish between the sensations. His finger nails pressed into his palms until Leonard firmly pulled his fists apart and fixed up the angry red crescents he’d left there, some bleeding angry red blood onto his bedding. Jim chewed the inside of his cheek then, his mind racing. There was so much to consider. So much to do. They had to avenge Pike, and all the others. Starfleet. Pike.

_I dare you to do better._

* * *

 

He didn’t feel the Hypo that sent him to sleep, but he didn’t doubt for a second it existed, because there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d have slept of his own accord. The chemically induced shit-show of his nightmares were no different from his usual sleep, and he woke suddenly, violently. Not enough to wake Bones, who continued to snore softly. _Tired, unrelenting man_.

Leonard had packed away and was asleep beside him on the bed. They weren’t touching anywhere but their interlocked hands. Normally, Bones would wrap around him like a blanket and hold him close. But once again, this wasn’t normal. Everything was out of sync, and it had been since they took the Enterprise away from him. Now Pike was gone. He couldn’t lose Bones too; he couldn’t allow for any more distance to grow between them, awkward and entirely his fault. It wasn’t that he didn’t want Bones. He wanted to be held, to kiss his neck and feel every millimetre of their bodies presses together. He desperately wanted to reach out and hold on, to never let go.

In sleep, there was a gentility to Bones’ expression that he suppressed with all his might in waking. Daylight found Leonard McCoy bitter and tense, always worried and on the go. Darkness brought with it a peace; sleep so heavy that Leonard didn’t really have nightmares too often. Nothing broke the barrier of Bones’ exhaustion. Jim always understood when his friend didn’t wake with him in the night, because he worked damn hard for long shifts. Jim always woke too much anyway. Sometimes, when he was up to it after a nightmare, Jim would lay in bed and watch Bones and feel every single second of friendship they’d shared in the last four years charging his veins.

Now, he looked at him and saw dust.

He carefully pulled his hand from Bones’, holding his breath when the quiet snores eased for a moment. They resumed, and Jim flexed his fingers, feeling nothing in them. Not because Len had been holding them too tightly, but because Jim felt nothing at all. Nothing and everything.

He slipped out of bed as easily as he’d removed his hand, distantly grateful that Bones was such a heavy sleeper. He had work to do. Pike was gone. Spock would be awake, probably. They had to make a plan. Do something. Anything. Bones would understand. He’d make Jim pay hell for leaving him, but he’d still understand. Jim flexed his fingers again, registered the shaking he could easily have missed were he not searching for any sensation at all. He clenched his fists and worked his nails – fucking trimmed, _damn_ Bones – into his palms.

_I dare you to do better._

He had to make this right, somehow. Bones would keep him alive.

_You’re not my duty, Jim, you’re my privilege._

Bones would force him to survive, whether Jim wanted to or not. Jim had never had any choice in the matter, anyway. Neither had Bones, because duty, duty, _duty_. It was not a privilege to love James Kirk, and he knew it. His mother had made that perfectly clear. His brother had confirmed it by fucking abandoning him. Frank had pointed out how unworthy of love he was too. Bones maybe did love him, because Bones’ didn't exactly have a track record for loving good people. Or people that were good for him, at least. But he was a Doctor first, before he was Jim's world.

_It’s their damn job to keep you alive._

Bones was his best friend. His lover, he guessed. Boyfriend? Probably not when everything happened behind closed doors. Jim knew that he loved Leonard McCoy more than life itself. But Duty. _Duty_. Bones would keep him alive, and Jim would _do better_. He would do Starfleet proud, and Pike proud.

Jim left his apartment and he didn’t look back.


	4. I'll See You Can Stand On Your Own Two Feet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Academy; Bones learns about Tarsus and Jim contemplates his relatively new friendship with McCoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from 'I.O.U' by The La's.
> 
> TW: Mention of suicide (very briefly).

Jim didn’t call for their Professor or for McCoy, sat a few rows ahead of him with one of his older cadet friends who had also been forced into taking the module, unwillingly. Bones didn’t even want to go into space, let alone imagine being stranded on some godforsaken planet, needing a survival strategy. Jim had known McCoy all of three months, and even _he_ knew that Bones would give his right arm to stay on at Starfleet Medical, rather than head off into the unknown.

No, Jim didn’t call for his friend. He couldn’t form the words, even if he thought maybe he did want Bones beside him. Instead, he ran. He ran like he had done all those years ago. No. Not even that many years ago. Hell, when decades had passed, it still wouldn’t be enough time between what had happened– what he’d had to be. He just about made it to the corridor before losing his breakfast, his fingers clasping at the cool metal of the bin and pressing in hard as he continued to throw up. Of all the places in the Academy he’d anticipated hearing the name Tarsus IV, the last class he’d expected was ‘Survival Strategies’. Tarsus didn’t require a survival strategy, it required a suicide plan.

He’d read the question about five times, not really seeing anything beyond the word Tarsus. Then he’d bolted, legs somehow finding some strength to carry him the hell out of that classroom and towards the nearest bin. The very idea he’d ever have to survive another Tarsus like situation in the future was enough to make him want to drop out of Starfleet entirely. Now that he’d stopped moving, he didn’t think he could ever start again. If he let go of the bin, he was sure he’d collapse. He was _weak_. His legs were bones, scraped and bruised and bloody beneath him. They weren’t his legs. They were just from the photos of Tarsus. The pictures taken for the records of a child, starving and broken and _weak_. If he could stop throwing up – if he could somehow trust his legs to carry him there, he’d march straight to Pike’s office and tell him to get fucked. _Screw_ Pike and his challenge. He couldn’t face that. He couldn’t survive Tarsus again. He wouldn’t want to.

He felt a hand on the small of his back and he choked, trying to spit out the remnants of bile from every corner of his mouth and failing miserably. There was nothing quite as vile as the taste of sick.

“You were there, weren’t you?” Bones asked quietly. It wasn’t a question that Jim thought really needed answering at this point. Instead, he simply allowed his head to be guided to a tilt so that his friend could administer a hypo more easily into his neck. The urge to throw up left him almost instantly, but he felt exhausted and emotional. “Of course you were.” Bones answered himself, anyway, muttering crossly as if he could never have possibly expected anything else from his new friend. Jim was only grateful that despite his angry exterior, McCoy actually cared a hell of a lot. He was a good Doctor, Jim had realised that within a week of meeting the man. Maybe, probably, he also cared about Jim. Angrily and reluctantly, but still. Jim realised, distantly, that in a way he was glad that it was Bones who’d been in that class. Rather McCoy than Gary. He’d known both men almost equally as long, but there was something about McCoy that was less jolting. More trustworthy.

Jim definitely didn’t flinch when two strong hands wrapped around his arms and dragged him up from the bin. He quietly hated himself for his inability to support himself, for his _weakness_. He was the best in his combat classes, most of the time, and he couldn’t even carry his sorry ass back to class. Bones didn’t seem to register his self-pity, anyway, and quietly positioned Jim’s arms carefully around his neck. Their proximity was sort of comforting, like Jim hadn’t imagined it could be. It wasn’t the first time Bones had half-carried him somewhere – they’d been drunk together more times than he could count, already. But they’d never been close like this, and Jim found himself clinging to his roommate closely. Bones wouldn’t stab him in the back like Gary might, unpredictable and off-putting as he was. McCoy was steady and strong, like Doctors were supposed to be. McCoy would cover his back, until Jim could run. He needed to be able to run, always, and fast. He wouldn’t survive. He’d die. He’d lose-

He clenched his fists so tightly he could feel the delicate bones inside his hand protesting, but his hands stopped shaking. The pain grounded him, forced him to remain in the Academy corridors, with Bones.

“Bones ‘m sorry.”

Not a beat passed before McCoy replied, squeezing him gently. “You’ve not a damn thing to be sorry for, Kid.”

“Didn’t want you t’ know.” He murmured, knees giving out beneath him momentarily so that Bones had to pause and heave him up again. Jim could appreciate the support and their closeness distantly, like it was someone else Bones was holding. But he couldn’t’ bring himself to look at him. Frankly, for all he thought he’d rather it be McCoy than anyone else who knew, the fact remained that no-one was supposed to know about Tarsus at all. Pike did and, somewhere in the universe, Sam and his mom. That was already three people too many – ignoring the Starfleet Officials who probably had been informed he was one of the few survivors. He’d barely even known McCoy for a semester yet, and though he’d consider him the best friend he’d ever had, it was still terrifying. There was no going back from this. He didn’t want to lose Bones. If he knew what Jim had done to survive… McCoy, the good Doctor, the healer… Jim would lose the best friend he’d ever had.

“Well now I do, and I’ll look after you.” Leonard sounded on the verge of tears when he spoke. Jim tried to ignore that fact, because no-one he’d ever trusted had ever cried for him before. His mother, maybe, once. In hindsight, he wasn’t sure if they were real or if they were crocodile tears. A show for the authorities. If she’d truly cared for him, everything would have been different. Sam would never have left. Bones’ words dragged him back to reality with a tug, “I’m not going anywhere, Jim.”

The solemnity with which he spoke almost made Jim want to believe him, trust him, allow himself that one relationship that he could put all his remaining hope and faith into. Even if it eventually came back to bite him on the ass- he could be selfish and dumb for the moment, couldn’t he? Future circumstances be damned- he was sure that McCoy truly believed what he was saying was fact. So he’d accept it, for as long as Bones was willing to have him. Jim didn’t have much of a choice anyway. They lived together, after all. What he did want to do was stop thinking – to get the taste of sick from his mouth and successfully repress all those twisted memories that he managed to do quite well when not confronted with them in class. Bones could help with that. It was a win-win situation.


	5. Now I Know What Dying Means

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post Into Darkness; A heavy workload in the absence of some crew has left Jim tired and anxiety riddled. Bones talks some sense into him and escorts him home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from 'Graceless' by the National. 
> 
> TW: Loss of parent, digging nails into skin again.

Jim stared at his hands, flat against the table in front of him. The metal surface was cool beneath his palms, and the simple act stopped him from curling his fingers up and breaking skin. Bones had once threatened to tape his hands up to stop him from doing that, and it was one of his instructions that Jim actually tried to comply with. It was easier to do than ‘stop getting into life-threatening situations’, so he really couldn’t complain. Leonard had noticed about a month after Jim had woken up, after Khan, and he’d looked at Jim with eyes wider than Jim had ever seen them. It had been _adorable_ , until they’d gone glassy with tears and suddenly there’d been nothing funny about it. Jim never wanted to make Leonard cry, even if he insisted they were good tears- and not even tears anyway, because Bones didn’t cry.

The mess and everyone in it had blurred out of his vision after the first hour he’d been sat there, cradling a drink he hadn’t touched. Some of the crew had tried to come and talk to him, but they’d given up pretty quickly when he’d not put a single ounce of effort towards maintaining a conversation. He was only in the mess because he was sick of the emptiness of their quarters. He’d sat for a while doing paperwork, trying to keep on top of the considerable increase in his workload now that Spock was away on leave. Bones had told him to relax for the evening, or else face being forcibly put under with a hypo, but Jim _couldn’t_. In his defence, Bones wasn’t there to notice any difference. Yet. He’d know, of course, when he saw Jim. Doctor McCoy always knew when Jim hadn’t followed his orders, and Bones would tear him a new one for it. But that was later, and Jim could deal with _later_. An ensign had fallen down a turbo-lift tube whilst doing repairs, and Bones had been on duty at the time. He’d sent along a quick message to Jim’s PADD, but that had told Jim that Bones was rushed off his feet and probably wouldn’t be back for hours after his shift was supposed to end. Jim got it, he did. It wasn’t like he wasn’t on duty 24/7 too. But he _needed_ Bones. When he’d gotten sick of signing his name to various reports, when the words had started to blur together, he’d taken off to the Officer’s mess. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be alone, clearly, or he'd be engaging with his crew. He just wanted to be near people, which seemed stupid considering he was stuck on a Starship with four hundred others without escape. It just wasn’t the same right now.

Jim blinked when his long held stare at nothing at all was interrupted by the bright blue blurriness of Bones, taking the seat opposite him. His boyfriend, surprisingly, didn’t look pissed at him. There was no bitter remark or gentle kick beneath the table, and that was such a rare occurrence that Jim managed to regain some of his focus on the room.

“I thought you were working.” He said softly, almost apologetic – as if Bones would pay him any attention if he thought Jim wasn't looking after himself.

“I thought you were resting.” He countered, looking closely at Jim the way Spock sometimes did when he thought the Captain was being an illogical idiot. A mixture of apprehension and concern.

“I am.”

“Now.” Bones reached for his wrists on the table top, turning his hands over and inspecting his palms absently. “I checked your activity log when I saw you weren’t in our quarters.” He paused, his thumbs skating across Jim’s fingers in a touch so gentle Jim thought that alone might send him to sleep. Maybe. “You can’t let this get to you, Jim. It’s life.”

Jim didn’t reply. It wasn’t life, it was the very opposite. It was death. The message had gone straight to Jim, from Starfleet command, and it had been his duty to deliver it. _Nyota, I’m so sorry...Your father has passed away._ He’d never forget the look on her face. Nothing, at first, a frozen state of shock. Then agony. Within a day, Nyota and Christine had been deposited at the nearby New Vulcan to catch a ride back to Earth, and Spock had decided to take his leave too. He insisted it was to contribute to some work that Ambassador Spock had been telling him about, but Jim sort of suspected it was really to see his Father. Everyone sort of suspected, really.

The problem was, the Enterprise was supposed to be a bubble. Their own little empire, strong and proud. A safe little tin ship in space, beautiful and pioneering. A family and a home in its own right. But three of his essential staff were gone, and he and Bones were both worked off their feet in their absence. Spock and Chapel were the heart of the ship, Jim thought, let alone the emptiness they all felt without Nyota’s cheerful singing in the corridors. So the last few days had pretty much consisted of a fresh wave of anxiety every waking moment, weird, unwelcome loneliness, cruel nightmares and a staggering increase in his workload. The crew had clearly noticed, though Jim wasn’t sure how he felt about that. As ever, they were the best example of a crew Starfleet could ever have hoped to put together. Scotty and Sulu especially- Scotty had even left the depths of engineering and his most recent projects to hold the bridge for some shifts. Jim wished he was with it enough to truly appreciate them. But he couldn’t even protect them from the crap that happened back home, let alone in Space.

“Remember when I asked you where you got that scar on your lower back?” Bones asked suddenly. “I asked and asked for years. Bugged the hell out of me that you wouldn’t tell me.”

Jim did remember that. Every mention of the damn scar had sent both of them into a fit of rage. At one point, he’d stormed out of their flat and seriously considered never going back. In his defence, he’d already told Bones more about his life at that point than he’d ever told anyone – even the Starfleet psychiatrists that Pike kept _helpfully_ forcing him to meet. In the end, Jim had picked himself up with his hurt pride and gone back to Leonard to apologise.

“You finally told me the night of Frank’s funeral,” Jim tried not to react to the mention of Frank, tried to remain still - just as Uhura had done. No reaction was better than a bad one, especially surrounded by his crew. “And I’m admitting it now, Jim, I wished I’d never asked.”

Jim’s eyes flicked from the wall to Bones, and he stared hard, his heart racing. He didn’t quite understand what Bones was saying, but he looked more pensive than anything else, nodding to himself thoughtfully. “Everything and anything you are, I take Jim. Since the day we met. I’d take all of your pain and suffering if I had to, if I could, but not that. I wish you never had to deal with it. I wish I’d never had to as well.”

That scar on his back was from Tarsus. There had been a kid, couldn’t have been older than five. Jim couldn’t even remember his name now, but his face… He remembered big green eyes and a mop of dark hair. Jim had trusted this little boy, when he said he was all alone and had lost his family. He’d trusted him right until he woke in the night with a knife almost embedded in his back. It had nearly killed him. Would have if help hadn’t arrived so soon after. Jim had killed the little boy. He’d hadn’t meant to. It had been self-defence. The worst part of all it was, he hadn’t even felt bad about it. At the time, the kid had just been a traitor. Jim protected his own, but those against him were competition for food. That was the bitter truth about Tarsus – a truth he’d tried to hide from Bones for as long as he could, terrified of what it meant. When he’d final told Bones the story, he’d not said very much. Only examined the scar with cool fingers, kissed it in the dark, and then held Jim all night. In the morning, when light flooded Jim’s room in their apartment, he was certain neither of them had slept.

“You can be as good a friend as humanly possible, Jim. You can want to do everything on earth, and care about someone so much that your heart hurts. But you’re only human.”

Jim rolled his eyes, half-heartedly. “You sound like Spock.”

“Hey, I’m being serious here. You can’t do everything. You can’t take away people’s pain, and when you try, you just end up taking it on for yourself.”

“A problem shared is a problem doubled.” Jim said lamely, turning his hands back over and watching Bones’ own fingers retract for a moment, in a defensive gesture.

“That aint what I’m saying either, and you know it.” Bones reached forward suddenly and flicked his arm hard, but the sharp pain was only with Jim for a moment. It distanced itself quickly, like the fading of pins and needles. “Pay attention to me, would you? I’m saying that everyone has pain. But you can’t expect yourself to bear all of it for everyone. You’ll kill yourself even trying. Worrying isn’t doing you any good. You know what it’s like to lose a dad, and you know Uhura. She’ll be herself again in no time.”

Jim deflated in a sigh that went unheard beneath the noise of the mess. His crew, laughing and talking after their long shifts. Eating, jovial as ever, before they could retire to their quarters. Jim watched them, mostly ignored, as if not really in his body at all. He felt non-existent; just a presence in the room, detached from his body entirely. He saw everything around him. A bunch of science officers were talking across their table. One of them was smiling shyly at an engineer Jim recognised from his time at the Academy. Sulu and Chekov were also in the room, tucked away in a corner, whispering to each other and blushing devilishly as though there wasn’t a thing wrong in the world. Jim blinked, back in his body, and his very heart seemed to hurt. He turned his head slowly to look at Bones, grounded once more.

“I’m tired, Bones.” More tired of thinking than anything, and he didn’t want to admit how much he missed Bones when work kept them apart for days like this. Of course they both knew it, as if it were the most obvious thing in the galaxy. To actually sleep side by side, instead of just missing each other as they got called off to deal with one issue or another, was precisely what he wanted more than anything.

“I know, kid.” He stood and extended a hand to Jim. “C’mon. Doctor’s orders.”

Jim attempted a smile. “I’ve never liked Doctors.”

Bones laughed out loud in response, his eyes twinkling with mirth at Jim’s words, and Jim couldn’t help but smile a little wider. “Yeah right,” He pulled Jim up from the seat. “I’ll remember that the next time you ask me to wear the damn lab coat when I’m-”

Jim coughed loudly over him, nodding politely to Chekov and Sulu – where Chekov was waving at him, with a bright smile. He didn’t doubt for one second that Chekov and Sulu probably got up to much worse – not that he relished the thought when he tried to align it with the picture of the innocent faced seventeen year old he associated with Chekov.

They left the mess largely ignored by the other crew – either that, or Jim simply didn’t notice anyone else. He found Leonard’s hand and held it tightly, resting his head on his shoulder for a moment. It was still baffling to him that he was able to do that so openly. For years their relationship had been so private and undefinable, even to themselves. He’d known he loved Bones more than anyone in the world for years before he’d told Bones, let alone been ready to tell everyone else. To hold his hand, even on the mostly deserted route to their quarters, still gave him a quiet thrill.

Bones punched the code in for access to their quarters, and turned the lights on, before pushing Jim gently until his knees hit the bed and he promptly sat.

“I like where this is going.” Jim said quietly, entangling their fingers and pulling Bones closer.

“I’ll get your pyjamas and some water. Get undressed.” Bones replied, squeezing his hands firmly before moving away, a positively wicked look on his face. It wasn’t that Jim didn’t want to sleep too, didn’t relish the idea of falling asleep so close to Bones, so tangled up together, that he woke after a few hours too warm, with dead limbs – he did. But he’d prefer to do that naked, after showing Bones just how much he loved him.

He stripped anyway, without complaining, throwing his clothes in the general vicinity of the laundry before shuffling back on the bed and settling back against the pillows. The bedding was clean and crisp, the scent reminded him of Bones’ bed at the Academy- Bones had always been much cleaner than Jim, and it had made sleeping in his bed on those rare, infrequent nights even more appealing.

When Bones returned to the bedside, he brought water but no pyjamas. He stripped quickly, put both their uniforms into the laundry and then climbed into bed, throwing the covers over Jim too. “You always get too hot anyway.” He explained to the grin on Jim's face, glaring blandly back at him as they moved closer together.

“So to clarify, sex is 100 percent out of the question?”

The heavy, comforting arm draped around his waist shifted momentarily as Jim received another flick in response. He snorted, rubbing his stinging shoulder lazily.

“No harm in asking, they say.” He grinned, feeling Leonard’s lip against his back curving into a smile. Now… now he could sleep. None of the problems his tiredness exacerbated seemed quite as threatening with Leonard McCoy smiling against his skin. Even if the problems would still be there in the morning – they’d still be sort of understaffed, and Nyota would still be away at her dad’s funeral. Frankly, Jim would still have thirty odd years of emotional trauma to eat away at his ability to command effectively without his security blanket in Bones, Spock and the occasional kick up the arse that Nyota provided. But that was later, and he could deal with later. Bones would be there, anyway.

“Sleep through the night and maybe I’ll give you a nice wake up call.”

“Deal.”

“I said _maybe_.” Bones grumbled. “Go to sleep, idiot. You can’t rely on sex to perk you up from every state of anxiety you happen to find yourself in.”

“Jus’ you.” Jim mumbled, pulling Bones’ arm tighter to him. “Can always rely on you.”

Jim relished in the warmth of Leonard's breath on his skin when he spoke again, almost inaudible even in the silence of their room. “Always. I’m not going anywhere.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I'll write something more cheerful soon.


	6. I Think You're My Best Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Academy; Bones had been away for a week and, in his absence, Jim has realised some stuff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from 'The Kids Aren't Alright' by Fall Out Boy.

“Jim! Goddammit, our mail was full- again!” Jim’s eyes snapped open before he’d even registered he was awake and he saw, if upside down, the blurry outlines of Leonard entering their apartment. He wore his creased hospital-locker civvies, arms laden with bags, a stack of textbooks, mail, and brought with him two coffees, balanced precariously on top. “You operate on a semi-normal timetable, the least you can do is stop me from getting yelled at by angry mailmen in the morning!” Jim flinched at the front door slamming, as Bones utilised his only available limb, in this case his right leg, to shut the door. He only flinched. It was a perfectly ordinary response – a response anyone would have if they’d just woken up to an angry southern Doctor making loud, angry noises. Yet, when he sat up, when the blood went rushing to his head, he almost felt sick. The night before had left him feeling more vulnerable than he cared to admit.

“Sorry.” He said quickly, rubbing his eyes as if to rub away the sleep, and adamantly denying to himself there were anything even remotely resembling tears threatening to fall. “What time is it?”

He heard a soft curse of relief, presumably as Leonard deposited his bags and work down onto their kitchen counter and stretched out his aching muscles. Bones really was a creature of habit, if nothing else. “Nearly Seven, damn night shift.” He replied, followed by two thuds. Boots off. Jim almost smiled, releasing his own face and facing the gentle morning light again. “You have trouble sleeping again, Kid?” Jim was asked, accompanied by a pile of mail being thrown at him.

Jim shook his head, depositing the mail beside him. Leonard worried too much. Jim was grateful, really – for every time he found a plate of food for him in the fridge when he’d gone too long without and every time Bones snuck up behind him with a hypo and a wicked smirk. Well, for _that_ he was less grateful, but the sentiment remained. Bones wanted to keep him alive, for some reason. Maybe recently Jim had given his friend cause to worry. He’d endured more sleepless nights than he was happy with. Bones always knew too - the bags under Jim’s eyes and his general pathetic demeanour betrayed him every single time. But he’d be damned if he admitted it was because he no longer had Bones just right next to him, always snoring softly or shaking Jim from nightmares or climbing into bed with him. It was childish to miss having someone close by to him, because Bones’ bedroom was just opposite his own. Just a small corridor away. Nothing had changed, really. He could still just walk across corridor into Bones’ room, ask ‘T Four?’ in a small, cowardly voice, and Bones would still shuffle back and hold his duvet up so that Jim could climb in beside him.

Nothing had changed.

At the same time, everything felt completely different. It was painfully more intimate to knock on his door, encroach on Leonard’s territory, ask permission. Before, he’d rolled out of his bed and into Bones’, or vice versa. It was so much harder now.

“Well you look like shit, and you’re holed up on our crappy couch wrapped in blankets.” Bones crouched in front of him, reaching a hand up to Jim’s head already – as though he wouldn’t even pretend to believe Jim if he insisted he was fine. In fairness, Jim had given Bones every reason not to trust him when it came to health matters. Considering he’d spent the majority of his life so far struggling to stay alive, Jim recognised some of his behaviour was self-destructive to the point of idiocy.

“I’m not ill, Bones. Are you?” Leonard’s hands were cold and his hair was just shy of sopping, dark and plastered to his face.

“It’s been raining all night. I hoped it’d stop before I left the hospital by hey ho.” Bone shrugged, with an easy smile Jim hadn’t seen on him in what felt like months. “Hence, coffee.” He stood stiffly, and moved back into the kitchen, returning with the two take-out cups he’d brought home from his shift. “Thought I’d treat you, considering you suffered a whole week without me here to spoon feed you.” A whole, agonising week where Leonard had been back home visiting his family.

“I’m not an infant, Bones.” Jim glared hotly, but accepted the coffee anyway and scooted up the sofa, gesturing for Bones to sit with him. Bones actually accepted, which was enough to ease the deep ache in Jim’s chest for a moment. Since moving into their new apartment, the walls between them hadn’t just been physical. Yeah, the separate bedroom thing was annoying to Jim- but it didn’t compare remotely to the distance Leonard had been purposefully putting between them. It was unnatural and awkward- and completely unwarranted. Jim had studied it quietly for a while, when the new school year had started, and realised it was more than just both of their hectic schedules. For instance, even when they were hanging out now, more often than not Leonard would go and sit in the armchair alone rather than with Jim on the couch. Jim had tentatively tried to breach that distance, terrified Leonard would completely reject his friendly advances, but found they’d been accepted unquestioningly. Bones didn’t mind being cuddled or sprawled over by Jim- he just never initiated it anymore.

“Of course not, Jimmy. Of course, Pike messaged while I was away - asked me what you were allergic to so he could make sure you were feeding yourself.” Jim’s mouth fell open in startled indignation. He was a grown man, for fucks sake. He didn’t appreciate or need Chris and Bones going behind his back to worry about him. He could take care of himself, and had done for a long time before he met either of the men in question.

“I resent this notion that I can’t live without you.” He muttered, bitterly, and sipped his coffee. In fairness, he’d just missed Leonard more than anything. Probably more than he should have done, considering the amount of time he'd spent with Gary in his absence. When he'd gotten too pissed off with Gary's tendency to become a horny or angry drunk, he'd gone back to their lonely apartment and distracted himself with studying. He _had_ at least remembered to feed himself and clean himself. He wasn’t completely helpless. Plus, he’d only gotten himself into a vaguely dangerous situation once while Bones had been away. That was a class, anyway, so it had been completely justified. _And_ Pike had escorted him home from Medical after his nose had been fixed. He survived just fine without Bones.

“You love us really.” Bones snorted, reaching for the stack of mail between them and flicking absently through the pile looking for his own letters. Jim drank more coffee to avoid retorting that he probably loved Bones more than the man realised. “I didn’t think you’d be here. You weren’t when I got back yesterday.”

Jim shrugged awkwardly, taking his share of the mail and glancing down at the envelopes as if any of it was worthwhile. Of course it wasn’t. Not even the thick letter from Sam he got once a month. Sometimes he opened them, sometimes he didn’t. This one he had absolutely zero interest in reading – it would go in the box beneath his bed, with the rest of them, opened or not.

“You gonna tell me why you slept in here last night? Why you look so miserable? Why you’re lying to me about your sleep?” There was an unspoken _again_ that followed Leonard's questions, but Jim didn't address it. He needed time. He'd had everything planned out, exactly how he want to say everything, but it wasn't so easy. He needed Bones in his life, more than just to feed him and fix him up when he got hurt.

He stared at his hands some more. Coffee in one and mail in the other. He’d put them down if he thought they could move from the support of his knees without shaking, and he didn’t want to give himself away to Leonard. Maybe it was a joke that he even thought that was an avoidable scenario.

“Jim.”

“McCoy, I’m fine!” He regretted the cutting edge to his tone the moment it had escaped him - hated himself for the hardening of Bones’ eyes and the way his whole body language shifted. Bones’ wasn’t a big fan of shouting, arguments of any kind really – despite being the embodiment of argumentative. “I…” He made the effort and put his coffee and mail down on the coffee table, fingers curling up into his palms instantly. “I ended things with Gary.”

Bones’ expression was a rollercoaster, then, and Jim wished he could have somehow recorded every aspect of it to analyse at a later date and truly mull over. Instead, Leonard quickly righted himself with concern and put his own coffee down.

“You…? Jesus, kid. I was only gone a week. When?”

“Yesterday, actually.” Jim attempted a smile. “You know what’s annoying? He’s passionate and funny and clever. When I’m with him, I feel like a cadet. Whatever that’s meant to feel like.” Probably like a teenager. Like not the famous son of a famous dead man. Like, not living with a Doctor nearing thirty and being tag-teamed by both him and Captain Pike into surviving Starfleet. That’s what Gary offered him, on drunken nights and library days and the occasional drunken days too. “But yesterday, I realised he’s one unpredictable bastard.”

Bones had told him as much, once, in the middle of an argument. He’d called Gary unpredictable and unreliable- altogether too wild; always chasing another high. Jim had argued that Leonard had practically just described _him_ , and they hadn’t spoken for three days afterwards. It was strange really. He felt like his weird on and off relationship with Gary had been doomed from the start. They’d argued far more than Jim ever did with Bones, and the fact remained that arguing with Gary hadn’t ever hurt the same was as it had done with Leonard.

“What did he do, Jim?” Bones’ tone had darkened somewhat, though he was making an obvious effort to keep his expression relatively neutral. It wasn’t hard to read his expression, though. He really did fucking hate Gary Mitchell, and his expectations of him were beyond low. Even if Jim hadn’t known him so well, Leonard McCoy really did flaunt his emotions for all to see. He was a Vulcan’s worst nightmare, sure, but he was exactly what Jim needed. He was what Jim had been missing his whole life. Someone relatively in touch with their emotions, who cared, who wasn’t ashamed to show it. Sam had been caring, once, but time and Frank had hardened his defences years before he’d left Jim to fend for himself. His Mom had never shown an honest emotion in her life – not one that he’d believed, anyway. She was all false smiles and distant utterances of ‘your father would be so proud’, to replace the ‘I love you’ or ‘I’m so proud of you’ that other kids got. In the end, he'd just stopped giving her reasons to speak to him at all.

“We didn’t fight, don’t worry. It’s just… he didn’t want me to come and welcome you home yesterday.” Jim shrugged. “He said he was my best friend, and you were just my roommate. But that isn’t true, Bones. It’s never been true. _You’re_ my best friend. I take you and this crappy apartment over feeling like a normal cadet any day.”

Bones shuffled closer, wrapping an arm around Jim’s shoulders and pressing a kiss to his temple. It was as if there’d never been any sort of gap between them ever, and Jim suddenly felt with a greater intensity how much he’d missed Leonard recently. It was weird to feel a pang of loneliness once the issue was over, but he shivered through it and reminded himself that Bones was back now.

“You’re not any ordinary cadet, Jim, you know that. Going out and getting wrecked, getting into fights - none of that means the same to you as it does to the others. They’re more… naïve.” He said quietly, but Jim heard every word in his ear. He didn’t protest when Bones took his hands in his own and slowly prized his fists apart, because it said almost as much as Leonard did. Gary had been just about the only aspect of his life that Bones and Pike had no input in. Not that they controlled him at all, but he’d sort of rebelled against them with Gary like an actual teenager. He couldn’t afford to get caught up in bad relationships. He’d come so far, and he beat himself up enough without adding a pissy boyfriend to the mix.

“You’re my best friend too, you know. It means a lot that you’d end things with Mitchell. I’m sorry if it made you miserable.”

“I’ll live.” Jim snorted. For the life of him, he couldn’t think of anything else to say. Gary Mitchell had been his… friend with benefits? Hook up? Boyfriend? Whatever it was, he’d been it for almost a year. On and off, arguments and hand jobs in clubs and an almost uncomfortably competitive friendly rivalry. He’d probably still see Gary every week, but everything would be different. It already was. But at least he had Leonard back- Bones, who was holding him just a little tighter since his last comment and breathing softly beside him, head resting on Jim’s shoulder.

Jim crooked his neck slightly and decided Leonard had fallen asleep. The poor man had just gotten in from a night shift, after all. Jim felt horribly guilty at having delayed his route to bed with his stupid personal issues, but not guilty enough to wake Leonard and send him to bed. In fact, he felt more guilty about the fact that he was going to nap right beside his friend and fucking love it. But he’d barely slept after getting back from Gary’s and realising Bones had already left for the hospital, worried and feeling out of place and lonely. Now Bones was beside him, warm and sleepy and cuddling Jim more carelessly than he had done since first year.

Jim closed his eyes.

 

 

Somehow, they’d ended up horizontal. A strong, tanned arm was draped over Jim’s waist, stopping him from falling off the couch entirely – and their ankles were interlocked, resulting in Jim’s right foot being entirely dead. He opened his eyes and found himself dangerously close to Leonard, close enough that he could count each individual dark eyelash as they fluttered open and he could feel the warmth of Bones’ breath on his face.

“Hullo.” Jim said quietly, feeling completely ungrounded. He could have slept through the entire century for all he knew- but the living area had brightened considerably, the sunrise of Leonard’s return home presumably long behind them.

“The rain quit. Finally.” Bones muttered, blinking again- thankfully, because otherwise Jim thought Leonard was probably staring right into his soul, and he wasn’t sure how comfortable he was with that. He’d been told by Gary that he looked like a startled puppy when he woke, so poor Bones for being so close. Of course, Bones had never said anything about the way Jim looked in mornings before – aside from the odd suggestion he shower because ‘ _you fucking stink kid’_ or ‘ _brush that damn blonde mop, for the love of all that’s holy’_. Then again, he’d never woken this close to Bones before.

“Good.” Jim replied, remembering Leonard had mentioned the rain. Rain, bad. Sunlight, good. The sun made Bones happy. Of course, he’d been on a night shift a few hours ago so Leonard probably really needed to go to his actual bed and sleep some more. Jim blinked and licked his lips. Bones was _so_ close. Then, suddenly, he wasn’t. The distance between them closed and Jim pressed his lips against his friends, awkward and horizontal- and his lips were still dry from sleep. But it didn’t matter, because Bones’ hand on his waist tightened and he kissed back, briefly.

“Jim…”

Jim reluctantly pulled his head back, thinking he’d never experienced anything so chaste and innocent and meaningful in his entire life. Especially not when every inch of his body was pressed up against a hot man on a couch. Leonard’s eyes had closed, his eyelashes fanning against his skin perfectly. Jim wanted to capture that moment and play it on loop forever.

The moment had to end.

“We can’t.” Leonard said, his eyes slowly opening again. “I should-“

“Yeah- yeah, right.” Jim dropped his leg down to the floor and used it to push himself up, away from Bones and the warmth between them- away from what had been perfect. What could have been perfect. “Sorry.” He shoved a hand through his hair. “I’m going to make coffee. You want one?”

“Ah- sure.” Leonard replied, dragging himself up into a sitting position. Or what vaguely resembled one anyway. Jim tried not to stare at his lips- tried not to let it sink in that he’d just kissed his best friend, and he’d probably never get the opportunity to do so again. Jesus fucking Christ, why had he done it when half-asleep on their crappy couch. One bourbon each and he was positive he could have had his tongue down Bones’ throat without protest. Maybe. No, that was fucking creepy. At least he had the excuse this time that he’d definitely - _definitely_ – not realised what the fuck he was doing until it was too late.

“Great. Coffee, coming up.” Jim forced a smile through lips he couldn’t quite feel and headed towards the kitchen.


	7. Lay Your Head Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-Beyond; After an incident on a mission, Bones is unsettled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from 'In Your Dreams' by Dark Dark Dark

“Bones!” Jim sat bolt upright, hands clutching at the sheets beside him where his boyfriend was supposed to be. Irritation surged through him. “Bones, I swear to god if you step one foot out that door you can count on not walking through it again. And then when you finally admit defeat, you’ll have to go curl up in Sickbay with M’Benga, and you’ll be miserable.”

There was an unwelcome intrusion of dim light casting into the dark room from the corridor’s night-cycle, as Bones hovered by the open doors. Jim could only make out his boyfriend's silhouette; fully dressed and seemingly completely functional. He glared anyway, hoping Leonard could feel his disapproval boring into his back.

“I dare you, Old Man.” He said coolly, not a hint of humour in his tone. This wasn’t a laughing matter. It was bad enough Leonard had tried to sneak out at night. It was somehow worse that he forgot Jim was the lightest sleeper on the Enterprise and would definitely wake up. That night in particular, Jim had barely even been sleeping for most of it. He never did settle very well when he was worried, and Leonard being hurt definitely amounted to more worry than Jim was comfortable with. It was a wonder Leonard had even made it to the door, frankly. Jim normally woke when his boyfriend even moved to go to bathroom. Maybe he was just particularly exhausted from arguing with Bones to get him into bed in the first place. Jim breathed through his irritation.

There was a pause. A long moment in which Jim almost thought Bones was actually going to leave. Then, the doors closed softly and Bones had stepped back into the darkness. When he spoke, he sounded more exhausted than he had done the few short hours earlier when they’d gone to bed.

“At least M’Benga wouldn’t suffocate me.” He said lamely. If he hadn’t sounded so utterly miserable and defeated, Jim might have taken offence. Leonard damn well knew the reasons why he held on tightly in bed, and he was miles better now than he had been when they’d first started sleeping together. No danger on board the Enterprise, most of the time. Nothing to take Bones away from him. Apart from his own stupidity, of course.

“He might, if you refuse to rest.” Jim muttered, before adding. “Lights, 25 percent.” He hated himself a little more when the lights raised in their room and fully assaulted his vision. No matter how tired he was, he refused to fall back asleep until he was sure that Bones was safe and well. He watched his boyfriend strip off again, his face still a touch too pale. “You need to sleep, Bones.”

“I know. I just wanted to go and check on…” Bones fell silent, meeting Jim’s unimpressed expression with a funny sort of shame that Bones never often had cause to display. Jim didn’t like it any more than he liked the fact Bones was hurt and upset. “I’m sorry.” He said softly, sitting back on the bed beside Jim. The weight on the mattress was a familiar comfort, but Bones had sat just a fraction too far away from him for Jim to be truly at peace again. Bones was never like this- never the injured party. Despite Jim’s own many injuries over the year, despite the therapy and comforts and well-wishes he’d received, he never really knew how to comfort other people. He’d hoped Bones would be an exception, because they were meant to be as far as he was concerned. But he still felt useless and awkward, like everything he said was pointless. If anything it was harder, because Bones already knew all the medical advice.

“You haven’t got anything to be sorry for.” Jim said after a moment- a moment in which he’d decided that very fact. He couldn’t punish his boyfriend for being an idiot _once_ in the years they’d been together, after a pretty brutal day no less. “Trust M’Benga and stay in bed. Sulu is going to be fine. You saved his life.”

“He saved mine first.” Bones muttered, without a hint of defiance. Only an unfathomable regret that he’d let Sulu get hurt. Jim, for one, was trying to just forget about it already. If he dwelled any longer, he’d never be able to stop replaying the scene in his head. He’d moved away from his team with Spock, left them in the clearing they’d beamed to. There’d been no reason to suspect danger. Jim certainly hadn’t been prepared for the racket of basic artillery- he'd turned back so quickly to see Sulu knocking Bones out of harm’s way. Well, in theory. The broken wrist had been an unlucky incident- and Jim intended to force Bones into a mandatory defence lesson as soon as he was physically able. He needed to learn how to fall correctly or he could damn well stay on the ship in the future. The Enterprise needed her CMO as much as Jim did.

Jim breathed some more. God, he had a lot to be irritated over.

 “Win-win, lose-lose. You’re both alive, in any case. But if you don’t rest up, your wrist won’t heal well, and you’ll be away from medbay for even longer. You know it’s true, so just listen to me for once. It’s logical.”

“Quit spending so much time with the hobgoblin.” Bones grumbled, even as his shoulders slumped slightly and Jim saw the visible decline of tension in his boyfriend’s frame.

“You love him really.” Jim grinned.  “I saw you both at lunch the other day. What journal were you gossiping about?”

Leonard’s outrage was instantaneous. “We happen to have the same viewpoint of a particularly idiotic approach to- you know what, that’s beside the point! He’s still a hobgoblin.” Jim laughed and tugged at Bones’ good arm, until his boyfriend fell easily at his side. He was a little too cool from being out of bed, but unresisting at least. That was better. Really, the answer to most of the tensions in Leonard’s life was to get him riled up about being friends with Spock. He’d deny it until they were in grave peril. It was a two-in-one package of a distraction and something to ground Bones. The perfect topic.

“Well, _Commander Spock_ happens to be on the bridge right now covering for me so I can be here with you. Now, if you can’t sleep, why don’t we do something to utilise that time effectively?”

The look that Bones gave him was positively adorable, a mixture of indignation and irritation and longing. Jim was certain in all their years of friendship he’d never once seen that particular look on his friend, but a small part of him was already certain he wanted to see it again. Bones wasn’t always motivated by sex in life – not that Jim was either, but Bones was a lot more patient in times of impracticality – so to see him so torn was a real treat.

“What happened to ‘rest’ and ‘no strenuous activity?’” Bones said, doing the best impression of a mopey teenager Jim had ever seen. Jesus Christ, he needed to catalogue all these looks and treasure them forever. When his boyfriend was less tired, less shocked and more himself, he’d probably be mortified he’d been so petulant.

Jim would enjoy that too. Really, it was nice to find a silver lining in his love’s injury. When Bones was physically hurt he reacted fascinatingly differently to when he was plain poorly. An ill or hungover Bones was grumpier than ever but boy, one broken wrist and he was actually _vulnerable_. He grinned wickedly, taking Bones’ elbow and manipulating his fragile arm to the side of them, out of the way.

“Well, your wrist may not work but mine does.”

Jim swore to God he heard Leonard whine.

 

 

He woke slowly, hazily, granting himself as many dozes as he wanted without remorse or thought, too comfortable to really contemplate getting up yet even if he had to. It wasn’t often he could even doze- generally, if he was awake he was wide awake. It was Bones who took an hour and a gallon of coffee to truly come around, sans emergency of course. This morning was a wonderful exception, and Jim didn’t bother to open his eyes until he decided he was truly conscious. Even then he didn’t move from the weird entanglement he’d ended up in with Bones at his side. Their legs were interlocked, twisted between their sheets, and Bones’ head and arm was draped on his chest. Not too warm and not too heavy. His injured wrist lay on Jim’s stomach, elevated and still besides the gentle drumming of his fingers. When Jim paid closer attention, blinking a few times to adapt to the light, he realised Bones was tracing intermittent circles around his skin too.

“How’s your wrist?” Jim asked softly, ignoring that ‘freshly woken’ quality to his tone and reaching for the water on his bedside table to sip.

“Fine. I commed M’Benga. Sulu was released this morning. No lasting damage.”

“Well we knew that much.” Jim said quietly. He chose not to comment on the fact that Bones must have slept terribly, even after his ministrations the previous night. He ignored the reality that Bones had woken and still been so worried that he’d contacted medbay. “I’m sorry you had to go through that, Bones. I’m sorry your wrist still aches, because I know what it feels like to heal a broken wrist. And I’m sorry you’re so tired from the regenerator. I’d wrap you in bubble wrap and hold your hand all the time if I could.”

Bones snorted. “Don’t pander, Jim. I’m fine.”

“Good. I love you, you know. I don’t know what I would have done if Sulu hadn’t pushed you away. Of course, I don’t know what we would have done without Sulu, either.”

Bones propped himself up on his good arm, his lips hovering enticingly close to Jim’s. His eyebrows quirked in a little frown.

“Well no-one else knows how to fly this thing.” He winked, and then stole a brief kiss. He’d be conscious about his morning breath if Bones hadn’t endured much worse from Jim in their years together. Still, Bones seemed reluctant to let him move away. For a few perfect seconds, there was nothing but the softness of Bones' lips and the steady hand creeping up his bare chest.

“You’re hilarious.” Bones said sardonically, when he pulled back. 

“I try, darling. By the way, I got in touch with Spock after you fell asleep last night. He’s agreed to teach you some combat lessons when you’re all healed.” He said brightly, extracting himself from Bones’ grip before it even had a chance to turn threatening. His face was contorting into anger rapidly, but it wasn’t nearly scary enough for Jim to regret his actions. Protecting Bones was more important than being in his good books. At least, to a certain degree. “I’m going to make coffee. You want one?”

He merely laughed at the pillow thrown at the back of his head, as he scarpered away from their bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm concerned Bones may be a little OOC, but I wanted to mirror the last chapter, so let's call it creative license?


	8. I'm Happy, Hope You're Happy Too.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pre-Into Darkness; an away mission to a new planet has remarkable effects.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from 'Ashes to Ashes', by David Bowie.

Jim grinned, hard, taking a step forward that felt more like a leap. But the sky was a burning yellow and the ground beneath him was soft and plush and a myriad of pinks and purples, spiralling like veins of candy through white cotton. Of all the planets they’d visited, Jim thought that this one was without a doubt the most hilarious. It was like a child’s dreamland, everything lush and padded and brightly coloured. He turned to his away team, raising his hand to his mouth and coughing to hide his smile – he channelled his inner Spock swiftly.

“Alright everyone, let’s get to work. Rawlins, take security with you and check in regularly.”

“Aye, sir.” His chief geologist smiled brightly, his face taking on the cast of the yellow light around them. The excitement of this mission was clearly getting to them all, not just Jim. The chance to explore a completely uninhabited planet, to walk amongst winding structures of mauve and crimson and feel the warmth of two suns bearing down on them.

Jim realised he was smiling again and huffed, shaking himself internally. The geologists ambled happily towards the nearest spire of rich pink, their laughter carrying back to the rest of the away team.

“Doctor McCoy, fancy a stroll? I’m sure Mister Spock doesn’t need us to babysit him or his team.” They’d spoken words like that before and been fucked over because of it, but Jim felt confident that this mission was different. There was nothing to indicate anything was wrong with the planet they were on, and he was surrounded by a bunch of scientists about to blow their load over some pink rocks and bright white ground. There wasn’t a single reason to be concerned.

“I could be persuaded, Captain.”

Jim grinned again, glancing at Spock who had that familiar gleam in his eyes like he was truly fascinated by something. This was a singularly interesting planet. Not so much for the rocks, not for Jim, but for the views and the sweet tasting air and the yellow, yellow sky. Regardless, Spock didn’t have a complaint to make as he nodded distractedly, already focused on his tricorder and the readings he was taking.

“Captain?” Jim turned to the security to his left, no doubt unsure as to whether to accompany them.

“Oh we won’t go far, thank you.” He smiled brightly and gestured idly towards an intricate network of spirals and spires. “Doc? Lead the way.”

Bones smiled ruefully back at him and set off into the unknown, Jim watching him walk ahead with no restraint. The others weren’t watching his gaze anyway, and soon they were out of sight behind the pillars of pink. It made a nice change, really, to take a stroll on a beautiful new planet without fear of getting stabbed or shot or tied up somewhere, facing some awful form of execution or other.

“You’re gonna get us in trouble, Kid.”

“Scared, old man?” He teased, and not a beat passed before he was pushed up against a surprisingly squishy tower of fuchsia, hands held above his head and Bones pressed up against him. That had been his exact intention, which Bones knew- had to know. But of course, his lover was still smiling at him ruefully and Jim’s heart swelled with adoration. He’d never felt happier, he thought.

“Old?” Bones asked, his lips touching briefly against Jim’s jawline and then pulling away, as a leg worked between his and pushed them tighter together. Then, suddenly, Bones’ seemed to change his mind about the direction he wanted to take and his eyes softened. “Maybe so, kid.” He whispered hurriedly, affectionately, before crushing their lips together.

Jim didn’t mind. He didn’t mind how they did it, as long as they did it. Bones normally wasn't one for risky planetside interludes; he generally preferred to lecture Jim on all the terrible possibilities of being caught pants down in some godawful situation. But today was different, apparently, under the yellow sky. Bones' gaze was adoring, and then his tongue was so fucking talented that Jim couldn't help but moan so loud he was worried security might run after them. He wasn't sure he'd even care if they saw at this point- he was so happy. Bones' roaming hands finally slipped beneath Jim’s command gold and, god, they made his skin feel electric. Like each touch released a boatload of endorphins into his system. He shifted, pushing up, desperate to get some relief- for more, more of anything really. Bones had been working overtime for three days straight and, though that wasn't an extraordinary long time to go without sleeping with him, he still missed him. As ever, Bones was moderately more in control of himself than Jim was satisfied with- not that he could really complain, what with Leonard's lips mouthing down his neck and kissing at the point of his collar, holding him steady.

They really should have expected the communicator to sound and Spock’s voice to interrupt their perfect, pretty little moment. “Spock to Captain.”

Jim almost wanted to laugh in sheer amusement, stepping back and pulling out his communicator. “Kirk here, Spock?”

“I believe yourself and Doctor McCoy should return to the Enterprise with the other human crew, Captain. There are certain elements in my readings I am cautious to allow further exposure to. Have you noticed any euphoric sensations since beaming down?”

“Chemically induced euphoria?” Jim clarified. Artificial happiness then. Or was it? Who knew. He was already pretty fucking happy- he had his ship, his best friend and Pike looking out for him back on earth. Why did he have any cause to be unhappy? But then he tried to think of his mother, or his childhood, and found he didn’t much care to dwell. _Huh_. Tarsus- even- only made him smile. The hopeful faces of children he couldn’t save induced only affection in him and not the debilitating shame it ought to have. He knew he _should_ feel that, but it was locked deeply away- as if buried beneath all the good. He could get used to that. Therein lied the problem, he guessed. An addictive planet.

“Something of that nature, Captain. I recommend we return to ship to fully analyse our readings.”

“If you think that’s best Spock, we’ll meet back at the beam sight in three minutes. Gather everyone.” He instructed, closing his communicator quickly and attempting to straighten out his uniform. “Well fuck.” He said to Bones, who looked was grinning ruefully, despite the sort of pained look in his eyes.

“Ask me if I’m happy to be in space.” Bones instructed him, patting down his hair hurriedly.

“Are you?”

“No, Jim. Fuck space.” Bones replied. But he was grinning still, just as Jim was. Almost manically, at this point. It had to be the first time in history Bones had been more deeply affected by something than Jim was. Jesus Christ, their luck was impeccable. At least their minds weren't completely addled yet.

“Crap. C’mon then Doc. Let’s get back.”

Bones only grinned in reply, and it was almost sinister.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay and for the short filler chapter.
> 
> I'm about to sit by exams so my head is filled with uni instead of star trek. 
> 
>  
> 
> I may disappear until June, but I will be back.


	9. If I Don't Eat, I Don't Sleep At All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Academy; Jim considers his relationship with Bones and tells him about Sam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from 'No Rest', by Dry The River.

“How’s Gaila?” Bones asked dryly, not sparing Jim a glance up from his work as he entered Bones’ bedroom. If Jim didn’t know any better, he’d think Bones was pissed that he’d taken his new friend out again. He just needed to get that damn cheat patch to the simulation computer – but that didn’t mean chasing Gaila wasn’t fun. She didn’t know, though, that Jim wasn’t agonising over her every night. Why would he need to? He had more than enough experience at one night stands, and he had a perfectly willing roommate to get him off whenever the whim struck them. It had been awkward at first, like their first kiss, unsure and tangled in feelings. But that one kiss had been addictive, and a month later Jim woke up in Bones’ bed. Sex was just sex. Great. Fun as hell, especially with Bones, but nothing more. Jim Kirk didn’t do relationships – Gary had taught him that. What he _could_ do was a best friend with occasional benefits.

“Green.” Jim supplied happily, stripping out of his uniform the moment the door swung closed behind him. God he was sick of red. The day he was given command gold he thought he might weep with joy. He’d told Pike that, recently, and he’d been laughed at for three solid minutes. If that was Pike’s reaction, Jim had no intention of telling Bones.

“And your tactics exam?

“Aced it, of course.” Jim replied, as if there was no other possible answer to Bones’ questions.

“Of course.” Bones repeated sardonically, dropping his pen and observing Jim finally. If he was remotely surprised by Jim’s semi-nakedness after nearly three years living together, he certainly didn’t show it besides shamelessly sweeping his eyes across Jim’s bare chest. “If you spent more time at home and less at the gym, I might not have cause for concern.”

Jim ignored that particular comment, sinking down onto Bones’ bed and curling his fingers up instinctively. He _couldn’t_ spent more time at home because half the time, Bones wasn’t even there. And when he was, Jim was too off put by the fact that pretty soon they wouldn’t even be living together anymore. He didn’t dwell on that - he couldn’t. So sure, sometimes he went the gym. More often, the library, where McCoy never had cause to visit. A few times, on particularly bad days mind, he had actually hid in Pike’s office until the old man had been forced to send him somewhere else because of meetings and the private information Jim was prone to somehow getting his hands on whenever he was around.

After a minute or so, Jim heard the click of Bones’ pen as he started writing at his desk again, and he frowned deeply.

“You realise there’s a beautiful, beautiful man spread out on your bed right?”

“I realise. His clothes are also all over my floor. I think he’s disoriented.” Bones replied without missing a beat. “And I have to study.”

“That’s all you ever do recently.”

“And how would you know?”

Jim opened his mouth to retort, but instead found himself staring at the back of Bones’ head dumbly. Well fuck. Bones had _actually_ noticed his absence. Worse- he was getting pissy at Jim over it. Jim’s nails pressed into his palms in a pattern, the pressure intensifying steadily – just to focus him, help him think clearly for five minutes of his stupid life. Jim was struck with an awful sort of worry that this was where it all ended with him and Bones. A breakdown in communications and then goodbye. That was pretty much how it had gone with Sam and his mom. Bones was different. He had to be.

“You got another one of those letters, by the way. The thick ones. I dropped it onto your bed.”

Jim cursed himself for even thinking _his_ name. He’d just jinxed himself in the worst possible way, because Bones was desperate to know who was writing to Jim so much. He’d bugged Jim about it nearly every month of second year, till finally getting the picture and shutting up after Jim had threatened to move out. It had been the biggest argument they’d had thus far, excluding where Jim's health was concerned- god even thinking about that damn scar on his back made him slightly peeved at Bones.

In comparison to that scar, Sam... well, he wasn't the worst thing in the world Jim had to share. God, he hated the moments like these. The ones where he had to be vulnerable by choice, rather than necessity. Jim was good at lying. He could cope with Frank, he was fine, nothing was wrong at home. He wasn’t 'asking for help' by getting into fights, he was just being a little git. He wasn’t struggling to keep going on Tarsus, he wouldn’t let another kid die. He wasn’t struggling to eat or sleep, after, he was doing just swell. Those lies had been necessary, to protect himself as much as the others. Half the time, they’d been to his mother, and god knows that had been a conscious decision. But Bones wasn’t like the others. Bones had chosen Jim as a friend, for some unknown reason, and actually cared about him. That didn’t mean Bones would intervene if Jim _did_ push him away. So he had to make an actual effort to stop that from happening.

“I don’t read those letters, you know.”

Bones’ pen stopped moving, and he swivelled around slowly to his bed, jaw set still but eyes curious. Jim didn’t let himself look too long, reaching down to the floor for his clothes and tugging his shirt on swiftly. This wasn’t a conversation he was going to have half naked.

“What?”

“They’re from my brother.” He admitted, finally dressed. He sat cross-legged on Bones’ bed, fingers toying at the blanket beneath him just to keep them occupied. “Sam.” Bones’ eyes flashed with some sort of recognition. He’d seen pictures of them as kids- young though, before Frank had entered their lives. Funnily enough, they didn’t have many pictures after that. Jim had probably mentioned him too, drunk, at some point.

“You don’t read them.” Bones repeated quietly.

“Not often. We have a complicated relationship, I guess. We were sort of all we had when we were kids. He’s older than me, though, and he left home before I went to Tarsus.” Left Jim to Frank, he wanted to say, but refrained. That was another story for another day. Or, if Jim got it his way, a story he'd take to his grave. “It killed me- I was just a kid, I didn’t understand why he’d left me.”

Bones was silent, listening, watching Jim closely even as Jim avoided his gaze. “I got back home after Tarsus, and this old lady at the Post Office had been keeping all these letters for me. She’d always been good to us when we were kids, and she didn’t want these letters to end up in the wrong hands.” Franks, that was. “There were about seven. The first one was a big apology for leaving me. The last one was when he’d found out from mom that I’d been on Tarsus. He still didn’t come and see me, though. He just apologised.”

“Where was he?”

“Working. Off-planet. I dunno. I didn't write back, but he kept on writing to me anyway. I send my new address when I’m moving but I don’t… he just writes because he feels guilty. Not enough to face me in person, anyway, but still.”

“You’ve haven’t seen him in all that time?” Bones stared at him, hard. “Jesus, that sucks, Kid.”

Jim blinked. Yeah, it sucked, but that wasn’t what he expected Bones to say. He’d expected to be grilled on _why_ , and how he could ignore some of the only family he had left. But when Bones finally did speak again, he still didn’t say what Jim could have predicted. Instead, he said, “You know I wouldn’t leave you, right? Not by choice.”

Jim let go of the blanket, flexing his fingers out slowly, relishing in the ache from the release of pressure, how his very bones seemed to have tightened inside his hand. “Yeah. I know.” He smiled weakly. “I’m gonna get a drink. You want one?”

Bones looked at his notes briefly. Jim didn’t even have time to consider he’d get rejected, before his roommate nodded. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

 

 

“You realise you’re like a damn limpet in the night, don’t you?” Bones complained, not for the first time, and Jim took that as a warning not to attach himself onto his friend this particular morning. Bones hadn’t minded the night before. Maybe it was a fucked up sort of reward for Jim having trusted Bones with another bit of information about his life. Jim didn’t want to think about it. Today was a new day, and it wasn’t like they were in an _actual_ relationship. It was pretty fucking obvious how much Bones was trying to emphasise that, because although he was happy to hold Jim after nightmares or panic attacks or shitty days, like yesterday, he normally always tried to keep him at an arm’s length after sex.

“I get that you’re not a cuddler, Bones, but it’s that or kick me out of your bed.” Jim replied swiftly, trying not to sound as breathless as he still felt. Sex with Bones wasn’t like sex with anyone else. It was more rewarding, despite the fact there was no chase. He was no Gaila, sure, but he was _Bones_.

Jim shot his friend a cheeky grin, sinking back into his pillows and reaching for his PADD. It was the weekend, but he was doing a group project in his Earth History class, and he was waiting for some feedback from his group. If he could get his work done quickly, while his friend napped, Bones might be in the mood for another round before he had to go to work.

“Yeah that’s a good point, go back to your own bed.” Bones grumbled, but he made no actual effort to sound convincing. Jim didn’t doubt that if Bones actually minded, he’d straight up kick Jim out of his bed and onto the floor. Frankly, Bones had already admitted he was ‘completely fucked’ just by letting Jim into his bed in the first place, so letting him stay the night couldn’t have made that much difference really. Jim never asked what it meant to be 'completely fucked' because he was pretty sure that meant feelings were involved and, as Bones hadn't mentioned it since, he could only assume he'd been mistaken.

“You’ve got to work on your bedside manner, Bonesy.” Jim said, lowering his PADD. He quickly focused his attentions back onto his roommate, because _damn_. Not that he’d ever admit it to Bones, because that wasn’t what they’d agreed their shared sex life was about, but he was fucking beautiful. Even in the morning, with bedhead and heavy limbs and inarticulate insults rolling off his tongue as if Jim had somehow annoyed him in his sleep. Jim loved it – and he didn’t have a clue what he was going to do when the year was up and they went their separate ways. The sex was one great added bonus- it just felt right, and easy - but the _friendship_. Having someone know him inside and out- getting to admit he had a brother he never spoke to. Nothing compared. Not Gaila, not all his commendations and grades, not Pike's tempered but rewarding affection. He’d never known anyone like Bones. More importantly, no-one had ever known him like Bones did. Hell, not even Gary had known half of what Bones did – and they’d gone out for a year.

Bones was his best friend, but it sort of hurt Jim to think about. Being attached to people meant losing people, even if they claimed they’d never leave. Sam had said the same thing, once. Bones might have chosen to stay with Jim, but there wasn’t choice involved here. This was Starfleet, not pick a buddy time. They'd graduate and then they'd do their duty. Together or, more likely, apart. Jim had no shame- he'd even tried to ask Pike if they'd be separated. Chris, bless that man, had said he'd try and look into it, but he hadn't looked hopeful.

"Go to sleep." Bones demanded.

Jim fought his early onset nostalgia with a wicked grin. “Why, you’ll _never_ find a wife being so cruel and callous.” He said, in an exaggerated southern drawl.

“F’ck off, Jim.” Bones murmured, shuffling further back down the mattress and twisting until his forehead was pressed against Jim’s ribs, tucked under Jim’s arm. Fucking hell, the intimacy of the action was enough to make Jim want to drag the good Doctor back up to his chest and squeeze him so tightly neither of them could breathe. But that wasn’t what Bones wanted – he very rarely even let Jim stay in his room, nightmares aside, so Jim kept still and tried to breathe easy.

“Oh now who wants to cuddle?”

“Good god man, let me sleep!”

Jim grinned shamelessly, because he could, because Bones couldn’t see him. He didn’t have to look cheeky or immature or amused when Bones couldn’t see him. He could just be happy, like he was. Happy to know Bones. Happy to occasionally get to share his bed. Even happier for the hours like this, when hanging out in each other’s room after sex wasn’t awkward. When Bones was sleepy and sated, even if he still liked to grumble at Jim. Jim would be an idiot to say another word and risk ruining the little bubble of Bones’ bedroom, so he didn’t. He just lay still, PADD in hand, and pretended to read whilst instead entirely distracted by the warm, steady breaths against his skin. Jim knew, deep down to the core of him, that he was well and truly, completely fucked.


	10. All Stars Fall At Some Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-Into Darkness; Jim works through some of his post death issues with the help of Spock and Bones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “All stars fall at some time. But a star is only a tiny spark from the great beacon in the sky.” - Jostein Gaarder, Through a Glass, Darkly.

“Jim?” Spock’s voice was perhaps softer than Jim had ever heard it, but it startled him anyway. What didn’t startle the fallible Captain Kirk these days? Pointedly ignoring the heart and it’s unnatural pounding in his chest, Jim’s gaze shifted to his First Officer.

“Spock.” He tried. Attempted. Nothing much actually came of his attempt, but his lips had formed the word and Spock had superior hearing anyway. He’d probably still caught that pathetic whisper, more breath than anything, aimed at him.

Spock had that concerned look written into his features – a look Jim could never have hoped to understand even a year ago. It still amazed him how someone he’d disliked so much at first had become his professional ally. Maybe his replacement, soon. Jim wouldn’t mind that. Spock deserved it, and he’d make a better Captain than he thought he would. Especially if he embraced his human side a little more often.

“May I join you?”

He nodded awkwardly, because he still couldn’t form the words. He didn’t even want to open his mouth anymore. Today was a bad day. The worst so far. His heart hadn’t really stopped beating so arrogantly since he’d woken from the clutches of a nightmare in the early hours of the morning. He could feel it and hear it all the time. Incessant and defensive, as if laughing at him, defying him. Survive, all the time. It was Jim’s role in life. To keep surviving, always selfish and always alive. He’d keep surviving and racking up a higher death toll, and every time he closed his eyes he saw a sea of blank faces. People he’d not been quick enough to protect. At the forefront of his mind was always Pike. Pike and the kids from Tarsus, always looking at him like he’d failed them.

Spock sat beside him, looking around the corridor as though it was a mildly-interesting new planet. “This area of the ship has not yet been cleared for human visitation. The systems are still being tested and you are liable to injury if you remain. I suspect that is the very reason for which you came here, but I find don’t wish for you to confirm so.”

Jim looked at Spock, tried to decipher what his friend actually _did_ want from him. The whole reason he’d dragged his sorry arse through San Francisco, despite every cell of his body protesting, was to be alone. Truly alone. No concerned visitors and beeping machines and nosy Doctors. Spock’s head tilted slightly, as if he found human reactions ever so curious, and not for the first time since waking up, Jim wanted to punch his friend.

“Captain, you are alive. Short of continuing on a quest for incidental self-injury, I see no alternative.”

Jim scoffed, shaking his head. His heart continued to thrum. He didn’t want to die. God, he couldn’t do that to Bones again. He just needed to be alone. Some place to think, nice and quietly. Only the quiet only exacerbated his problem, because his heart still wouldn’t shut the _hell_ up. If he could just find a way to ignore it, he might be able to look Bones in the eye again eventually.

“Why are you here, Spock?” It was a better question than ‘how did you find me’. Spock clearly had a few tricks up his sleeve when it came to identifying life-forms in a corridor without any technical systems implemented yet.

“Doctor McCoy sent me. I gathered he believed his own presence would merely upset you further.”

Of course. Of course Bones would blame himself for this. It wasn’t like Jim had really given him any other choice- he’d not exactly been the most grateful subject for his newly extended life. God, Bones had kissed him the moment they were alone in the hospital and Jim had just frozen. He hadn’t been able to move or react at all. It had probably been the most awkward moment they’d ever shared, and Jim hadn’t even been able to apologise. Still hadn’t. Though Bones still hovered close by whenever he could, he’d not touched Jim again since. Jim wasn’t sure if he minded or not.

“That man knows more about me than anyone. He knows-” The things Jim had done. “The person I am. And he still revived me. Me, not anyone else.” He took in a shuddery breath. “I love him so much, Spock.” He admitted, because it didn’t matter anymore surely. Their weird relationship. Jim and Bones. Lovers, behind closed doors. Spock wouldn’t tell on them to anyone, he thought. Spock was a stickler for regulation, sure, but they weren’t breaking any rules and god-what did it even matter. He’d be better off running away from Starfleet and Bones altogether.

Jim tapped his fingers against the metal floor in time with his heartbeat, and even that noise couldn’t drown out the one still pounding in his head. The whole corridor was unfinished, and the floor lacked its overlay. The Enterprise was beautiful, even without all her finishing’s. With them, though, she was home. She just needed a bit more work. In a few months, the work on the ship would be completed. Everything would be reset and pristine. She’d be quiet for a little while, at peace, and then they’d start up the engines and it would be like nothing had ever changed. Like no time at all had passed since their first excursion into the unknown. Jim had never thought he could be jealous of a ship before now.

“Doctor McCoy is a man of strong morals. He would not have revived you had he not loved you also.” Spock paused. “There is a great deal more to life than surviving, Jim. You demonstrated as such to me. You survived, regardless of how. Your objective now must be to live.” Jim let out a breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding and nodded, shakily. Spock didn’t often delve into the personal lives of his friends- and perhaps he did with Jim more so than anyone else, but it was still a rare occasion. Though when he did, he made a very good point.

Survive, survive, survive.

_I’d take all of your pain and suffering if I had to, if I could._

Spock stood suddenly, offering a hand down to Jim to help him up. “Allow me to escort you to Doctor McCoy, Jim.”

“Yeah.” Jim agreed slowly. “Yeah, okay Spock.”

 

 

Bones actually looked surprised when Jim cracked open his office door at the Academy and peered in, knocking half-heartedly even though Leonard’s eyes had already found him. Bones had either not expected company or specifically not expected Jim to come, which hurt in a distant, sketchy sort of way. The way you never truly grasped how much pain you were in right before consciousness. It was his fault, he knew. He’d let things get stupidly far, and Spock was right. Short of going back to how he used to be – angry and violent and sort of a train wreck – the only option he had was to actually talk through his problems. There was no Pike to help him out anymore. No-one else to clean up his messes. Except Bones, of course.

“Jim- come in.” Bones said, even as he stood from his desk and tried to clear away some of his paperwork hurriedly. Fucking hell, he was flustered, and Jim felt like shit because Bones didn’t get flustered. Bones was calm and composed, even mid-crisis. He had to be, he was a Doctor. All Jim had done was walk into his office, and the poor man was a mess.

“Can I get you a drink?”

Jim sat and shook his head. Maybe water would have been a good option if he actually wanted to get through everything he had to say, but he didn’t have the energy to waste on asking. There was too much to do and say, and if they delayed any longer he’d probably lose all nerve. Bones must have gathered he was ready to talk, because he sank back into his seat opposite Jim and waited for a long minute. The silence wasn’t as uncomfortable as it had been since the kiss, but it was tense in a different way. Not awkward uncertainty, but tangible apprehension.

“I’m scared,” Jim said finally, feeling mildly faint. But there had to be enough oxygen pumping around because he felt every damn breath and every heartbeat, and that was his life now. He persisted nonetheless. “I’m scared that if I tell you all the things in my head, you’ll hate me.”

There was a definite shift in Bones’ expression; a flash of disappointment or hurt or something else equally as gut-wrenchingly agonising. Jim wanted to curl up into a ball and pretend this wasn’t happening, this wasn’t necessary. He’d told Bones everything, everything- Tarsus, Sam, Frank. Bones knew each scar, intimately, especially the mental ones. He knew Jim’s every strength and weakness. He’d not once made Jim feel like he didn’t want to know. Jim’s fear was completely unfounded, he knew. But he wasn’t Spock- he couldn’t be logical about this.

“Have I ever given you any reason to think I’m even capable of hate, Jim? Let alone towards you.”

_You’re not my duty, Jim, you’re my privilege._

Jim blinked rapidly to keep the tears at bay. That wasn’t the point. Bones loved him _now_ , sure. Jim never once doubted that. He wouldn’t be alive if Bones hadn’t loved him so fiercely. So how could Jim throw that back in his face- admit how hard it was to hear his own thudding heart, to breathe consistently and deeply and not be terrifyingly conscious of each fucking intake. He sounded selfish and weak, and there had to be a line. If Bones had seen him at his worst then God, what was this?

_You’ve not a damn thing to be sorry for, Kid._

That was a lifetime ago. Bones was a Doctor, it was his nature to care for the weak and injured. Jim was just that. Always weak. He loved Bones more than anything on earth, sure, but he couldn’t face him. Not now. There were worse things in his head now than Tarsus and Frank. There was the staggering guilt that he was alive when others- better, kinder, stronger people – were gone. Worse- the association always with Bones, the dependency on him, the bond between them that could never be undone. Leonard would forever be the man who dragged James Kirk kicking and screaming into the world of the living. Jim could never make another mistake again.

_I’m not going anywhere, Jim._

Surviving, always surviving. That was Jim’s role in life. He’d never meant for Bones to become a part of that. He shouldn’t have been Bones’ responsibility. Now, Bones had played God and they were both paying for it. Dammit, what right did Bones have to inflict this on him? To even choose who to save?

_I’d take all of your pain and suffering if I had to, if I could._

 “I’m angry that I’m here and Pike isn’t.” Jim admitted finally, eyes flicking down to the table between them. An avalanche of all the unspoken emotions was threatening, and Jim knew he shouldn’t have spent the greater part of his time since waking actively avoiding his Doctor. His best friend. But god, it hurt. It hurt his heart worse than that unavoidable beating. “I’m angry that you brought _me_ back. I survive. That’s what I do. I survive and everyone else dies. You weren’t supposed to be a part of that- you’re complicit and I can’t stop feeling guilty- And I miss you, Bones, I miss you so much I can’t breathe. But-”

“I didn’t let anyone else die to bring you back, Jim.” Leonard interrupted him, quietly, and Jim didn’t mind falling silent to listen. I was probably the least he owed his friend. “I couldn’t have saved Pike, and you know it. I knew what I was doing, I’d do it again tomorrow to save you. And maybe I’m going to hell for it- maybe we both are. But you’re worth it, Jim.”

Jim shook his head frantically. Bones didn’t realise what he was condemning himself to. “I should be _dead_ \- Bones.” He rasped.

“You _were_ dead, dammit.” Bones replied swiftly. “It kills me that you think you don’t deserve a second chance, Jim. You can hate me, if you want. Blame me for Pike and everything - hell you can fire me! But I won’t regret saving you for a single second, not in my whole life. The universe is a better place for having you in it, Kid.”

It wasn’t remotely true to claim a silence filled the office, because all Jim could hear was his own ragged breaths and his heart, still thumping against his chest like he was in the midst of a panic attack. Only _he wasn’t_ and the sensation could fuck right off. What had he done in his life to deserve Leonard McCoy? He’d been a worthless, good for nothing kid that turned into a worthless delinquent. How could Bones… Jim inhaled deeply, blinking back tears. He’d have done the same, he thought. Saved Bones and defended his decision until death. They were both pretty fucked up, and he didn’t even have to think about it too closely to realise that. Maybe they were too dependent on each other, and maybe that was the only thing that would keep them alive in the beautiful hellscape of Space. There was certainly no salvation, anyway. There was no quick solution to just be fine. There was only Bones and Jim, their little family on the Enterprise, and the whole universe – just waiting for them.

Jim eventually calmed, backing away from the precipice slowly. His breaths evened and the tears that had threatened receded. He stared at Bones throughout, matching their breaths and pressing his palms onto the arms of his chair, till the cool wood warmed beneath his hands. He could still feel his heartbeat, even as it steadied to a more manageable pace. But that was good, because the alternative was death. It shouldn’t matter that sometimes his heartbeat was _all_ he could hear - that conversations would fade away and all he’d know was his thudding heart. In time, he suspected, he wouldn’t notice it at all.

“When can you leave?” Jim asked, finally, in a small voice. He was tired. He didn’t want to be surrounded by Starfleet people, not for a long while. He just wanted Leonard. Bones understood. He always did. He had every right to be angry as hell at Jim, for more things than he could count, but he didn't hold a single thing over Jim's head- not even to force him back to the hospital or his own apartment or anything.

“Now." He just said, almost too hasty. "If you want.” He amended.

“I want.” Jim swallowed. “Can we order pizza?”

Bones still looked pale and sort of uncertain, but he attempted a grim sort of smile anyway. “Sure, Jim.”

Whatever anger Jim had to work through still, it wasn’t going to be solved immediately. They had time. Thanks to Bones. His friend stood, offered Jim a hand as if he could just tell Jim’s legs still felt weak, and he was right. Bones was always right. He could read Jim like a book from the day they met. Death hadn’t changed that, apparently. Jim wanted nothing more than to go back to Leonard’s apartment and curl up on his bed and _finally_ sleep, curled up beside him.

“Let’s go.” Bones said, holding him close and mostly upright. Jim only smiled. There had been an unspoken ‘home’ on the end of his utterance.


	11. Paint My Spirit Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post Beyond; Jim worries over something he found out in a meeting with Admiralty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from 'I Will Wait', by Mumford and Sons.

Bones looked sort of grey when he entered their quarters, and Jim watched him from his chair quietly, his PADD lowered down while he observed his boyfriend. Leonard dropped his communicator onto the table beside the door, before he looked to Jim and stiffened instantly.

“You’re kidding?” Bones asked in a low voice, staring at the cut on Jim’s forehead. It was teeny- barely warranted thinking about, let alone a trip to sickbay. Jim had only got it by walking into a defective closing door and, in his defence, Uhura had laughed for five minutes straight – which she sure as hell wouldn’t have done if he’d really been hurt.

“Oops.” Jim offered, shrugging.

Bones gave him a long, hard look. Probably deciding if it was worth being angry, or if he was too tired to even bother. That was fair. Bones had been non-stop since he’d first been called into medbay hours before his shift was supposed to start that morning for a medical emergency. He’d cancelled their lunch, dealt with one near death and god knows what else. Jim tended not to get told about every minor incident, but he wasn’t naïve enough to believe Bones sat around in his office all day writing up reports and drinking bourbon. No, his friend would be wasted on a job like that. He was probably wasted on the Enterprise, too, and Jim hoped to god that wasn’t one of the contributing factors to his stress. He didn’t think that lightly, either, because it had been months since he’d seen Leonard in a state like this. Every bit of his body looked exhausted and aching.

After dedicating enough time glaring at Jim, Bones turned and continued through to their bed. He didn’t sink down into his chair and stick his feet up on Jim’s lap like he should have done. Like Jim would have done, if it were the other way around. Jim was lazy like that, though. He’d been in their quarters for hours already and was still in his Command Gold. No, Bones didn’t stop going until he was sure he could. He stripped out of his uniform and grabbed a towel, disappearing into the bathroom without a word.

Jim might have been concerned Bones was mad at him if it didn’t happen so often, and if he didn’t know what he knew. What he knew, he wished he didn’t. Damn Boyce for telling Barnett, and damn Barnett for telling _him_. He’d be a thousand percent happier not knowing. Worse was having to act like he already knew - like Barnett hadn’t just knocked him on his ass with his stupid remark. Now, he was left wondering why Bones hadn’t told him, and precisely what was going on inside the tired head of his boyfriend.

A job offer. A really fucking good job offer that would take Bones away from him, back to Earth. As opportunities went, it had to be the equivalent of being a Starship Captain. On Earth. Not space. Not the Enterprise. God, it was Bones’ perfect job when Jim thought about it logically. But fuck that- he hushed the voice in his head that sounded like Spock. He didn’t want to be logical, he wanted to be selfish. He was allowed to be, surely? He’d earned that right when Bones had dragged his sorry ass back from the dead all those years ago. He wouldn’t let Leonard McCoy desert him now. Even if all Bones got in return was endless stars, long shifts and coming home to treating whatever cuts and bruises Jim had managed to accumulate during the day.

Jim didn’t notice the sound of the shower stopping, but he looked down to his PADD to pretend to work as the bathroom door opened and Bones stepped back into their quarters, dressed and looking marginally better.

“Shit, sorry, I got distracted.” Jim stood up quickly, moving to the replicator. “Sorry, do you want tea? Have you eaten?” He couldn’t even remember to make his boyfriend a drink when he got off work, he was the _worst_. Not selfish- Bones had banned that particular word from his vocabulary, much to Spock’s confused, tentative agreement. ‘S _pock, say you agree with me’, ‘Doctor-‘, ‘Dammit, Spock!’, ‘I agree with the Doctor, Captain.’._ They were, without a doubt, the most ridiculous pair on the entire Ship. Jim didn’t count himself, of course, because that was an unfair advantage to any measure of insanity.

“I’m good, Jimmy. Sit down, would you.” Bones took his own seat at their table, pulling one of his many handy med-kits out from the shelf behind him. “You look pale, are you concussed?”

Jim rolled his eyes, but he sat anyway, eyeing the med-kit suspiciously. “No.” He said bluntly, before admitting, “Uhura checked me over once she’d stopped laughing.”

The ghost of a smirk threatened Leonard’s features, but it was quickly washed away by tired concentration. Jim tried not to lean into the touch of his boyfriend’s fingers, reaching up and padding softly at the edges of his cut. It was a few hours old now, and it didn’t hurt too much really. Jim had frankly forgotten about it until Bones’ eyes had gone straight to his head upon entering, and then he’d remembered the distant string.

“For someone who brags so much about his pretty face, you think you’d make more of an effort to keep it safe.” Bones said quietly, taking out the regenerator and checking the settings.

“What can I say, the ladies love a scar.” Jim replied, not quite hitting that level of charm and teasing that would have truly done his joke justice. Instead, Bones just snorted blandly and set to work. “It could have waited until tomorrow though. Did you actually eat, Bones, or were you too busy? You don’t have to spend your life looking after me, you know?”

Bones’ eyes narrowed fractionally, as if he was trying to understand the message Jim was putting across- trying to work out if Jim knew. Jim wanted to cry. Of course he knew. Job offers in Starfleet were the worst kept secret in the universe- but _fuck it all_ Barnett had only mentioned it to Jim to gauge his reaction, he was certain. Jim had blustered through his shock seamlessly, almost.

“Christine force fed me soup an hour ago.” Bones murmured, placing a hand on Jim’s head to hold him in place as he began the process. “Spock needs to teach his damn scientists how not to almost kill themselves, by the way. Or maybe hire some competent crew.”

“Sure, Bones.” Jim held still as his cut was closed, and then warm lips pressed against newly healed skin. He closed his eyes, savouring the feeling. They were a little dry, and Bones had chewed on his lower lip while he was working. But it was reaffirming inadvertently, and Jim allowed himself to deflate a little, to let down his guard.

“You sure you’re okay? How long have you been working.”

“Only as long as you, and not nearly as hard.” Jim replied, opening his eyes again. “I wouldn’t say no to an early night though, if you’re offering. And I’ll get on Spock in the morning about his crew.”

Bones snorted, standing and putting his kit back away for the next medical emergency Jim presented in the harmless privacy of their quarters. “Your crew, Captain.” He corrected, extending his hand back to Jim. “Bed, Doctor’s orders.”

“What would I do without you, Bones?” He took his friend’s, best friend’s, boyfriend’s- hand and it felt like home. Had done since the Academy. Those steady Doctor’s hands had held him up when he’d learned about Tarsus. They’d supported him on drunken nights, sleepless nights, dancing, dead, broken and crying and gloriously happy. Jim wasn’t sure what his life would be like without those hands in them. Seeing them once in a while, through vid connections. Was it enough?

“Okay that’s it.” Bones dropped his hand and turned on him, his quiet calm replaced with anger. Not anger – the special Bones version of anger that mainly consisted of being loud and cantankerous. “You know, don’t you!?” Though it was more of an accusation than a question.

There was really no point lying.

“Yes.” Jim admitted sullenly. “I found out in my Admiralty meeting this morning. I don’t mean to be clingy. I’ll support you no matter what! I’ll just miss you, Bones.” He shifted awkwardly, more than uncomfortable at the silence that greeted his words.

“I’m not going anywhere you dumb shit.” Bones said then, flicking hard just behind Jim’s ear and ignoring the outraged ‘ _OW!_ ’ that Jim emitted in response. “You wouldn’t survive ten minutes without me, and I have no intention of dragging you back to earth to watch you sulk for the rest of our lives. I’m fine where we are.”

“But the death and danger and disease? And that job- Bones- Being on earth- and not having to look after a spaceship of ‘ape adolescents’.”

“Dammit Jim, I said that _once_!”

“Well you said it very loudly to the entire ship, and don’t think we’ve forgotten.” Bones had interrupted Jim’s ship wide communication to angrily inform them of the fact, purely because they’d all contracted a virus planet-side that was, apparently, the space equivalent of Mono.

Bones glared at him. “Jim, there’ll be a hundred jobs just as good waiting for us when you’re done being a Captain. But I told you, the one thing I’ve always told you, is I’d never leave you by choice. This is my choice, okay. I’m not leaving now I finally have you properly.” His hand reached out again, whilst his other rested on Jim’s head and carded through his hair easily. “You’re stuck with me, Kid.”

“There are worse things in life.” Jim replied, finally smiling properly. “Old man.” He laughed at the flick he received then, and allowing himself to be tugged towards the bed, content that his multitude of abandonment issues weren’t enough to make Bones actually leave him. It was nice, he thought as his gold shirt was pulled from his skin, raised carefully past his newly fixed skin and tugged free, to have someone to depend on. Bones was just that, and it was high time Jim accepted the fact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said I might disappear until June but obviously I was wrong.
> 
> Thank you for all your sweet, sweet comments.


	12. Lover, You Should've Come Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-Into Darkness; Bones finally lets slip his anger at not being with Jim in his final moments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from 'Lover You Should've Come Over', by Jeff Buckley.

Jim stared at the man sat impatiently in front of him, trying to work out what to say. How to make it better. Whatever anger Jim had felt upon being brought back to life… well, it sort of didn’t compare to Bones. Jim had been messed up and it had taken every damn day they had on earth to get himself back up to scratch for taking the Enterprise back out. Really, it had been a close call. Therapy and crying and sleepless nights. It was like being kicked off the top of the ladder and made to climb right back up to the top. Only, in the increasingly frequent moments of clarity, Jim recognised it was easier this time. He already knew the route, after all. Anyway, this time he had Bones and Spock and Uhura to help him. It was still unfathomably hard – getting strong again, Pike’s memorial, learning not to focus on his own thudding heart. But he managed, because he had to. And in all that time, Bones had been at his side, calm and supportive.

Then, once they were back out in Space, Bones’ issues had started leaking out. Not a breaking dam- not a ticking time bomb, like Jim or Spock. Bones knew damn well how to hold his anger in- so well it took forever to work out there was even a problem. It came to him, eventually, when Bones stormed out of Engineering, leaving Jim and Scotty both startled in his wake. Jim had almost felt like laughing. He was so dumb. He truly was. Of course Leonard hadn’t survived the entire debacle unscathed. It was insane to think that Bones was the epitome of mental health after everything… Jim had just been too consumed in his own issues to pay any attention. But the more he thought about it, the more obvious it was. There were little things - like unfathomable anger when Jim got so much as a broken finger, even when it was very clearly Sulu’s fault while they were sparring! There were cutting remarks at Scotty, the occasional unwarranted snap at Uhura, the ever so short temper towards Spock- beyond, even, his usual short patience with the First Officer.

He was angry at the three of them, and Jim, because they’d all been there when Jim had died. It was the most obvious thing in the entire world now that Jim had realised it. He had to make Bones see how sorry he was, but how little he regretted it. He couldn’t bring himself to regret it at all, in fact. Only dragging Bones back to their quarters- telling him that- hadn’t gone down well with his boyfriend. Not remotely. Before Jim could even hope to explain, soothe, calm- Bones was snarling like he hadn’t done since one third year night when Jim had thrown up on him, drunk and clingy.

“You have any idea what it felt like to receive your body on a goddamn stretcher? You had no right to keep me away! Not Scotty, not _Spock_ , not you! Someone should have called me!”

“You wanna know something Bones?” Jim asked. He was suddenly seething with anger in a way he’d never really felt towards Bones before. It felt wrong inside him, like he was burning one of the only bridges he’d ever successfully managed to build, but he kept speaking anyway because he couldn’t stop. “I’m glad Scotty didn’t call for you! I’ve even _thanked_ him. Did you ever stop to think that maybe he did it like that to save you?!”

Bones was equally as livid, hands balled into fists and not even deigning to look at Jim. His gaze, fixed on the wall, shifted slowly to Jim, and his voice was ice.

“Save me? No. You fucking died with an audience, but god forbid I see you. You were _selfish_ -”

That stung in a way Jim couldn’t have expected, and Leonard probably realised his mistake instantly given the way he cut himself off. Jim didn’t care. Selfish. He’d been called selfish his whole life. Frank had called him selfish. When he’d tried to tell his mother what went down when she was gone, she’d called him selfish too. That shit left a mark. Then between pissed off sexual-partners at the Academy and the horrifying knowledge of the things he’d done to survive on Tarsus… well, he spent the majority of his time trying to convince himself that he wasn’t selfish at all. Just self-preserving – which was somehow better. It had to be.

Silence rang out in the quarters for what felt like an endless minute, but Jim’s concept of time was fucked- he could only feel his pounding heartbeat and rushing blood, and nothing else seemed real at all. “Fuck you.” He repeated, and then he distantly recognised he was shouting louder than he could remember doing so in years- and never at Bones. “YOU HAVE NO IDEA!”

He didn’t look where he slapped his hand against the table between him and Bones, but he heard the glass shatter. He saw his own red blood welling up from his hand, even if he couldn’t smell its coppery tang or feel the sting of his wound. He did recognise Bones flinch, but whether it was at the action or the blood, Jim couldn’t tell. He curled his bloody hand into a fist and took a deep, steadying breath. The air felt like ice water surging through his veins. With effort, he continued at a more reasonable volume.

“You’ve been saving my life since the day we met, Bones, in so many ways.  You even blame yourself for the side effects of Khan’s blood, and that saved my life. I couldn’t let you… couldn’t watch you watch me die. You’re right, I was selfish. I didn’t want to see the look in your eyes when you realised you couldn’t save me.” He breathed again, trying to figure out how an ordinary afternoon had deteriorated into _this_. “I thought if you saw my body, if I died away from you where you didn’t have a hope in hell of getting to me, then maybe you’d find it easier. Realise you couldn’t always be there to protect me.”

Bones was staring at him hard, and Jim knew that look. He was trying not to cry and failing, eyes reddening quickly as he blinked and fought hard against the cascading tears. That’s how he’d looked when Jim had told him about Tarsus and, later, Frank. Each and every time it happened, Bones proved the pillar of strength he really was. Emotional and human as Spock insisted, sure, but stronger than Jim by far. His stare broke, and Bones’ gaze shifted to his bleeding hand. He picked it up from the table, pushing broken glass away carefully, and inspected the small wounds. As ever, his grip was gentle and steady, even as his breaths remained uneven. Even though they’d just been screaming at each other for what was their first _official_ fight.

“Idiot.” Leonard said quietly, bringing his tricorder up to inspect his digits as if that would tell him anything different than his eyes, and Jim let out a shaky breath, because that meant the fire was out. The bridge could be rebuilt. Relief washed over him like a wave and he began to feel the pain in his hand, finally. It wasn’t bad though, he’d been quite lucky.

“I want you to allow Spock complete access to your medical records.” Bones said slowly, but Jim didn’t doubt that he hadn’t been thinking about this for a while. “I want him to know every allergy and the history of every damn bone in you.” A hand clasped against his head. “You hear me, Kid?”

“Bones…”

“I may not always be there to protect you, but I’ll be damned if I don’t do everything in my power to make sure you’re never killed unnecessarily.” Bones snorted. “And that means you opening up to the only other person likely to be with you when I’m not there.”

Silence greeted them both suddenly, and Jim’s throat felt tighter somehow. He couldn’t deny that he hadn’t considered doing exactly that already. If not for Bones’ sake, then for the ships. The Enterprise needed a command team who knew precisely each other’s weaknesses; it was the only way to be strong against them. Spock needed to know, really. He nodded slightly.

“Sure, Bones. I’ll do it.” He really couldn’t deny him that. Bones had saved his life a hundred times over. He owed him more than just some shared medical records. Even though the idea of actually carrying out Bones’ request made him feel queasy, it didn’t change the fact that Jim had to agree. He’d been putting it off for too long, anyway.

“Good.” Bones turned his bloody hand over in his own, shaking his head briefly. “Stay put, I’ll get my kit.”

Jim didn’t think he could move very far anyway, even if he had any intention of leaving his chair. He cradled his hand to stop blood getting everywhere, but he’d already ruined his shirt and it seemed a lost cause now in any case. He drummed his fingers on the table, trying adamantly not to think about what he’d just agreed to. For Bones. For Leonard. It wasn’t a quick fix to Bones’ anger, nor Jim’s, but it was still necessary. It was the right thing to do, to move forward.

“Here.” Bones dragged his chair up close to him and sat, placing his first aid kit on the table. When he took Jim’s hand, it was with such gentleness that any residual anger didn’t dare linger. Bones cared so fucking much and Jim knew what his death had done to him. Maybe dying away from Bones hadn’t saved his feelings, but they couldn’t change the past now.

“I’m sorry, Jim.” He wiped Jim’s hand clean carefully, his touch more soothing than he could possibly realise. “You’re not selfish. Not ever.” Jim didn’t trust himself to speak, too overwrought with emotions he couldn’t hope to process. He _was_ selfish. Deeply, deeply selfish. But Bones had never once called him so before. It was another one of those unspoken lines that Leonard had drawn long, long ago. Jim could take and take, ask anything of him, and it was never selfish. Jim didn’t bother to point out that his issues didn’t resolve him of all blame in life. He could still be a selfish dick, despite Tarsus and Frank and Sam.

“Do you trust me, Jim?”

He stared at his hand, watching his skin slowly knit back together. “I’m tired, Bones.” He whispered, instead of replying. Bones _had_ to know the answer. Of course Jim trusted him- but that didn’t mean Bones was right.

“I know. Me too. I’m sorry. I’m-“ Bones took another deep breath and held Jim’s hand a little tighter. “I love you, Jim. So damn much.”

“I love you too. It’s okay.” He assured him. “We’re okay, Bones.”


	13. You Seem So Out of Context

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Academy; Jim finally tells Bones about Frank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from 'The District Sleeps Alone Tonight', by The Postal Service.

“Ow! Fucking hell!” Jim swivelled in his desk chair, clamping his hand up into a fist as if to ward off the pain seizing his back up obnoxiously- as if he didn’t have better things to do with his damn, stupid life than get random aches in his weak, stupid body- “Fuck OFF!”

“Dammit Jim!” He heard through the wall their bedrooms shared. As if it was even worth having more than one bedroom at this point in Jim’s opinion. Half his time was spent out all night studying at the library, and the other half was in Bones’ bed. He didn’t particularly care if Bones was there or not either, but his room was sort of a tip while Bones’ was always clean and fresh smelling. Like Bones. “What the hell is wrong?” Bones burst into his room, med-kit in hand already, fighting off his usual concern over Jim’s health with an unhealthy dose of irritation. Unhealthy for Jim, probably.

“Just a twinge in my back. I’m fine. Keep that kit away from me.” Jim retorted, equally as cutting. It wasn’t as if he took Leonard’s irritation personally, he’d endured it for three years now and that was more than enough to tell him it was just his friend’s own way of showing affection. That didn’t mean he was in the mood for it. He hadn’t been in any sort of mood since he’d found out the news from Pike, but he wasn’t sure why. As ever, he felt too much and too deeply to even distinguish what it really was he wanted, or even needed. All he knew was no amount of revision could stop him thinking about Frank, and thinking about Frank meant most of his emotions wanted to manifest as pure anger.

He knew, recognised distantly, that he needed to tell Bones. He already knew everything else, anyway. Hell, he’d learned about Tarsus within no time at all, and Jim hadn’t regretted it since. That was sort of different, though. Jim forgave himself for Tarsus daily. He had to, or it would eat him alive. Frank was in a league of his own. Jim could have run from him, like Sam – he could have changed his situation or asked for help. He could have done a lot of things, and he didn’t. He just let the bastard ruin everything and then got himself sent off to Tarsus, out of the way. It wasn’t his fault, he knew. But his mind told him differently.

“The hell I will.” Bones snorted, approaching with his tricorder in hand. “You’ve been sat at that desk for too long, that’s the damn problem.”

Jim kept his lips tight shut, not deigning to mention that Bones had been sat at the desk in his own room, studying for even longer – and after a shift at the hospital no less. But then, Bones had been a student and a Doctor for long enough to know how to look after himself, to sustain himself for long periods. Jim relented, allowed himself to be tugged onto his bed. He didn’t fight back when firm hands held him in place, even though instincts told him too.

Bones was better off not knowing. Frank wasn’t worth agonising over, and there was no point distracting Bones with his issues.

The tricorder fell silent and Bones retreated slightly, sitting on the bed with a good foot of distance between them. Jim watched his friend working through the readings with a very fixed expression- concentrating, like he had all the pieces to a puzzle but one. He reached into his med-kit and procured a hypo, injecting Jim without so much as a word. Jim rubbed his neck miserably, but the pain dissipated and it was hard to remain angry under the gentle fuzziness of pain relief.

“You’ve not stopped studying for days now. You wanna tell me what’s up, or would you rather work yourself to death?”

Jim’s mouth opened, intending to write off his bad mood and storm out before he could be attacked with any more questions or medicine. It promptly closed again. Trust. He _had_ to trust Bones, because he’d never given him a reason not to, and there was no-one else. He took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. Bones would understand. Bones always understood.

“I had a meeting with Pike the other day. He brought up some old stuff. It doesn’t matter-”

It was only Bones’ hand wrapping around his and pulling it gently apart that made him realise he’d been clamping his nails into his palm. When Bones spoke next, it was with a gentility he didn’t often display. At least, not always with Jim. Only when things were real bad, or in the still of night when he was too tired and content to be a hard ass. Not in the bright evening light, like this, sat separately and maintaining eye contact far too intently.

“It does matter. I’m listenin’, Kid.”

It was probably conceited to think it was only for Jim with which he ever deigned to adopt such tenderness, but Jim liked to think that anyway. It meant more than the hurried nights together and all the worried glances over at Jim in-between. He didn’t have much choice but to agree. He nodded, and fixed his gaze on the wall behind Bones.

“It’s my ex-step dad’s funeral tomorrow. He… he was the one who convinced my mom to send me to Tarsus.” Bones didn’t make a sound, but even in the corner of his vision Jim saw him tense slightly. “I was a little shit. He wasn’t… he was… we just didn’t get on very well.”

A thumb ran across his hand, tentative but encouraging, so Jim continued.

“Frank hated me and Sam. I got off easy at first because I was so young, and Sam was there to cover for me whenever I did something that got him angry.” As he so often had done. At first, without knowing, without understanding why mentioning their real Dad or missing their Mother was cause for an argument. Later, older and argumentative, he’d provoked Frank for the sake of it. He’d never learned to keep his head down until Tarsus, but even that had failed the moment he’d met those children needing a leader.

“He’s the reason Sam left?” Bones asked quietly.

“Yeah, and it’s the reason I can’t… can’t forgive Sam. Things got so much worse for me when he ran. Frank was a drunk and a brute, and I was a brat in response.”

“Jim…”

Jim just shrugged. Until Pike had told him the news, he’d managed to acquire a state of detachment from his feelings about Frank and his Mom. Not so much Sam, but he dwelled on that enough every month when those letters came through for him. The problem was, nothing could ever compare to Tarsus -in comparison, Frank’s punches, the emotional abuse, every aspect of his flawed guardianship, were nothing. If anything they just prepared him for the hell of Tarsus. He knew how to duck and dodge, how to fight back. He knew how to go hungry for a night. Frank was quite possibly the reason he’d survived Tarsus.

“You’re a walking textbook of manifestations of non-recent abuse.” Bones continued, factually. Jim stared at him for a moment, mouth agape. Then, he stood, pissed off for some reason he couldn’t quite fathom, beyond the pit of hot anger in his chest.

“Jim, I’m sorry! Sit back down.” Bones called after him, following closely. Jim turned, arching an eyebrow. There, he realised, his anger had come from. He wasn’t telling McCoy as a Doctor, but as a friend. His best friend. His… Bones. “It’s hard wired into me, sorry.” He reached for Jim’s hand again, and Jim found he wasn’t remotely angry enough to actually leave their apartment. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected Bones to say to his confession in any case. ‘ _Sorry your step dad was a dick and now he’s dead’_ seemed sort of bland.

He huffed, folding his arms even as his initial anger dissipated rapidly. “You’re a real shoulder to cry on you know, Bones.”

“I know.” A hand found its way onto Jim’s shoulder, and another to the side of his head. “I’m your friend, Jim. I’m here for you no matter what, right? But I’m a doctor too. The day I don’t put your health first is probably the day one of us dies. So just accept it.”

Jim rolled his eyes, but he didn’t say anything. It was nice to know Bones cared, at least.

“It doesn’t matter now, anyway.” He allowed himself to be led back to his bed and he sat down, glad for Bones again suddenly. The weight on his shoulders since his meeting with Pike was starting to lift, and his room, a dusty mess, looked sort of beautiful in the evening light. “He’s dead.”

It was the first time he’d said it so factually, and it sort of made his head hurt. All these years he’d wanted to believe Frank was lying in a ditch somewhere, miserable and drunk. Now he knew for certain he was dead, and he didn’t feel particularly comforted at all. Bones didn’t say anything for a long minute, which was fair. No condolences emerged. Or perhaps congratulations were more in order. Jim didn’t know.

“That’s a damn shame, Jim. I’d have liked to have punched his lights out.”

Jim snorted, cracking something that hopefully resembled a smile. “Get in line.” Right behind himself, Sam probably, half of Iowa. Still Bones probably punched harder than the rest of them put together. He was good like that. Just the year before, he’d sent Gary Mitchell flying head first out of the bar they were in for trying to buy Jim a drink. It had been terrifying at the time, but sort of awesome in hindsight. It was the most possessive thing Bones had ever done publicly, even if it was a bit of a stretch to call it possessive. It was no secret that Gary and Bones hated each other, and Gary had been drunk and irritating, even by his own impressive standards. Regardless, Jim had felt like singing for the entire week following just from the memory of Leonard’s arm swinging back.

“I wish Pike hadn’t told me. He thought I might have wanted to go to the funeral, though.” He laughed darkly. Let the man rot with the worms. If Jim had gone to the funeral he’d have been risking seeing his mother, for one. He’d probably have only spit on the man’s grave anyway and that wouldn’t have helped anyone or anything.

“How many of your scars are from him, and not Tarsus?” 

Jim shrugged instantly. He didn’t know what was what anymore. “It probably wasn’t as bad as you’re imagining, Bones. I did provoke him, anyway.”

“All kids are provoking, Jim. All kids are brats. You didn’t do a damn thing to deserve punishment, and nothing on earth can ever convince me you needed to be sent to Tarsus.” He was tugged sideways, and the distance between them closed as Bones held him fiercely. “but look at you now. About to graduate Starfleet, top of your class. I’m proud of you, kid.”

Jim nodded dumbly. Yeah, okay. Bones was proud of him. Fuck Frank. Leonard McCoy was proud of him. That was enough. And now that Bones knew, Jim was sure he wouldn’t be left alone for the next 48 hours. Bones would undress him and lead him to the shower, soothe him and tug him back into bed and keep him safe until that man was safely six feet under. That was more than enough.


	14. Send Me To The Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Into Darkness; Between the volcano incident and returning to Earth, Leonard and Jim have an important conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from 'Never Let Me Go', by Lana Del Rey.

 

The silence had gone on so long, Jim had almost passed out again. Almost. He could have done quite happily, but he fought the sensation harder than he ever had done. It was no new concept to Jim to make a conscious effort to stay awake, but it had felt so tense before. Sickbay was almost silent, save for the usual steady beeps and white noise of the main ward through the doors to their left. No, the silence was coming primarily from Bones. Normally if he wound up in medbay, or anywhere that Bones had to treat him, it was to a barrage of insults and sarcasm. It was comfortable and familiar- and even if Bones was mad at him, it never really lasted long. But that evening he’d woken to a dim medbay and a tight-lipped Doctor. Bones had briefly helped him sip some water and explained he shouldn’t talk, but otherwise he’d said nothing at all. No ‘well done, idiot’. Not even a gentle flick to his forehead as punishment for getting himself into trouble again. It was disconcerting.

Jim’s chest ached like hell, right to the core of him. He could also feel the fuzziness of some numbing agent on his skin, though, and so could only vaguely register Bones working away at his hidden wounds. The desire to pass out came and went in waves, between which Jim tried to focus on his friend. The silent treatment was one thing, but Bones didn’t even _look_ his usual pissed off self. His face was sort of blank, his eyes fixed on his work but otherwise clear and steady. More peculiar was that he was being particularly gentle in his work – Jim didn’t doubt he’d be able to tell otherwise, he always could when Bones wanted to make him pay for his idiocy. He just didn’t understand Bones’ motives, but when he tried to speak, to question, his throat was raw and uncooperative.

Bones pulled off bloody gloves and discarded them, signalling the end of his work. He fussed out of Jim’s line of sight for a moment, and then Jim felt the familiar sting of a hypo pressed against his neck to ease the pain. Jim could only lay still and try to get his eyes to focus as his friend moved around his bed and stood at his feet, finally bothering to meet Jim’s eyes.

“You don’t care, do you?” Bones asked, eventually.

Jim blinked in questioning.

“You don’t care if you die.”

Jim heard the words. His mind repeated them a few times, trying to work out what Bones meant. He sounded so sure and so… resigned. Disappointed, but with a sort of calm that made Jim’s heart clench. He’d let Bones down and he wasn’t even sure why.

“It’s okay. I know _why_. I know you.” Bones shrugged apathetically. “It just never really occurred to me until now that you’d never change.”

That hurt in a way Jim really didn’t have the energy to understand at that moment. He stared at Bones hazily, unable to even blink, until he felt a hand tap against his toes awkwardly. “Get some rest, Jim.” Then the familiar presence at the end of his bed was gone, leaving behind a coldness that Jim couldn’t process.

 

 

Jim had been surrounded by death his entire life. He’d been born surrounded by it, even. Every birthday. Every anniversary of his father’s death. It weighed on him like a challenge in itself. ‘Your dad died to save your worthless backside’, his stepdad had once said to him, staggering around and brandishing a fist that Jim had long since learned to avoid, ‘and this is how you repay him?’ Jim had vowed then, just a kid, that he didn’t give a damn for death. It wasn’t some noble sacrifice- it wasn’t as great and momentous as they all made out. Death was a fact of life. It came for all of them. He refused to be scared of it.

He’d probably jinxed himself by thinking that, because within years there was Tarsus and starvation, then PTSD and rock bottom, waking up in dumpsters – or worse, hospital rooms. Death had seemed out to get him; a hooded figure following him through adolescence and just waiting for him to take another step forward. Fortunately for him – or unfortunately, depending on how he was feeling that particular day – there was always someone there to hold an arm out and keep him the fuck alive. Pike, and then soon enough Bones came along and took on the role himself – even going so far as to keep him relatively healthy during times of non-fatal situations. Maybe Jim had developed a bit of a complex of invincibility. Maybe he thought Bones would always be there to save the day. Maybe he didn’t value his life very much and it seemed a reasonable sacrifice for the safety of his crew or his ship. In any case, he knew he needed to do something to make it up to Bones.

It was his own fault really. Bones’, that was. He was a Doctor. He’d chosen to keep Jim after first year at the Academy. He’d chosen to let Jim into his bed. He’d chosen to accept his stationing on the Enterprise. Or maybe it hadn’t been a choice at all, but destiny. Jim had been due someone to look after him, surely? Someone to finally take care of him, so he didn’t have to. He couldn’t even imagine what Bones went through every time he screwed something up and got hurt. The Academy had been one thing – allergies and nightmares, panic and the occasional cuts and bruises. Space was a whole different level of danger, and Jim was always at the heart of it. Of course he was. He was the Captain after all. He couldn’t change that. Bones was wrong- he did care about surviving. It was all he’d ever done. But he was different now. He had reasons to stay alive besides blind, desperate base survival instincts.

He had Pike for one, who’d drag Jim by his ankles through a spiky bush if he died first. The man had made bloody certain Jim had kept his head above water during the Academy, and nothing had changed since Jim had taken the Enterprise. Then there was his unending quest to truly befriend Uhura and Spock. He’d made good headway, but god, they were his greatest challenge so far. Hell, Spock had almost died in a fiery Volcano death just a few days before and Jim had almost failed his goal entirely. He wanted desperately to know they both liked him- genuinely. If that meant chess and language classes and extra sparring sessions and nights that could have been spent in private with Bones, instead spent in the mess with his crew, then so be it. He refused to die before he got both his First Officer and his Communications Officer to admit they liked him. Quite frankly, they were all stubborn enough that Jim might never die.

Then, of course, there was Bones. Bones, who let Jim into his Quarters increasingly often since heading back out into the stars. When Jim was caught up in paperwork, Bones would find his way to the Captain’s quarters instead. Curl up on his bed and sleep, snore softly in the background until Jim was finally able to join him. Their relationship had shifted minutely, almost seamlessly, and without Jim noticing at all until the transition had already occurred. He didn’t think it could be classed as casual sex anymore, in any case. They were, for all intents and purposes, a couple. In all but name, and public. Behind closed doors, they were solely each other’s, and Jim _lived_ for it.

He knocked on Bones’ door smartly, three times. A passing ensign was staring at him, and he smiled dazzlingly at him until he blushed and hurried away. Another moment passed, and Jim considered whether he should use his override or just walk away and come up with a better way to apologise. But really. _Knocking_. He hadn’t knocked on Bones’ door for access in forever. It just wasn’t necessary - and Jim hoped to god that wasn’t why the ensign was so baffled, because he didn’t want the entire ship knowing that he was in the CMO’s bad books for getting some shrapnel to the chest. Still, the doors slid open at the last possible moment before Jim gave up and left, and Jim entered swiftly before Bones could change his mind.

“Jim.” Bones greeted from his chair. Beside him was bourbon and a PADD, open to some academic journal that Jim had once read to his friend to send him to sleep in the midst of a bad cold. Thrilling stuff, really. Jim had almost fallen asleep before Bones had done. “How are you feeling?”

“Shiny and new. M’Benga just released me. No strenuous activity, fighting or hostile alien planets for a whole day.” He said cheerfully, taking a seat opposite his friend.

Bones made a face like he wanted to snort or make some sarcastic comment; Jim’s mind produced a varied supply of possible insults. But Leonard didn’t actually speak, only reached for his Bourbon and sipped it thoughtfully, his face cleared of his harsh expression instantly.

“I’ve been thinking. Insane, I know, but it’s true. I have three things I want to say to you, Bones, and you have to let me get through them right now.” He didn’t breathe for long enough for Bones to interrupt him, even if he looked like he wanted to – which he didn’t, for once. “Firstly, I wanted to thank you. Thank you for everything you do for me, Bones. You’re my best friend, and I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

Bones put his bourbon down, the glass clinking against the table slightly. “I know, Jim. You know I don’t mind… I do it because I want to.”

Jim smiled ruefully. “I know.” No wonder Bones let him in. He should have expected it, really. Any time Bones got remotely angry with him, it was always followed by a great deal of feeling guilty and worrying he’d triggered some of Jim’s exceptionally poor self-esteem issues.

“Secondly, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m a pain in your ass and I get myself in trouble too often. I’m sorry you never stop having to look after me. But you’re wrong, I do care. I don’t want to die, Bones. But I’m the Captain and I have to take a few hits sometimes. I’m just grateful you’re the one who patches me up. There’s no-one I’d rather wake up to, old man.” He drummed his fingers against the arm of his chair. “Well, thirdly, we’ve had orders back to earth. Pike summoned us already. I thought, while we’re there, I might take you out.”

“Take me out?” Bones repeated, eyebrow quirked. Jim couldn’t decide if that was amusement or disbelief, until his lips broadened into a smile. Bones was beautiful when he smiled. It made his eyes shine, just as it had done when they were both fresh faced first years. Well, Bones hadn’t been quite so fresh faced, and Jim hadn’t either come to think of it. Still, Nero had aged them both in a way, but Bones smiled at him and Jim felt truly young again.

“Yeah. That’s what I want.” Jim tried to remember the last time he’d felt so nervous asking someone out. This wasn’t just someone. It was Bones. His heart raced and his palms felt sweaty, but all that mattered was Bones’ smile at Jim’s words. Confidence somewhat boosted, he continued. “I want to take you out. Properly, Doctor McCoy. In public and everything. If you’ll have me.”

There was no missing beat. No pregnant pause.

“Yeah. Sure, I’ll have you, Jim.”

Jim thought his cheeks might burst if he smiled any harder, and despite his natural urge to jump onto his friend’s lap and kiss him senseless, he stayed sat still. “Good.” He nodded excitedly. “I’ll find somewhere for us to go, then. After the meeting with Pike.” He stood, mind already racing with possibilities. Probably too early to propose, they’d not technically even started dating yet. Fuck, he was thrilled to the core of him. He didn’t have a clue how he was supposed to survive the next shift on the Bridge without making Spock think he was having a mental breakdown, grinning so hard.

“Alright. I have to be on the bridge. I’ll see you soon, Doctor McCoy.” He moved away, sort of awkwardly, unsure how to leave without a kiss or a cheeky comment or, god, why did he feel the urge to salute?

“Jimmy?” He turned back quickly. Bones grinned, then strode across the room towards him determinedly. “We’re not suddenly practicing celibacy until marriage, are we?” He asked and Jim barely registered the words before his back hit the wall and a hot mouth was pressed against his. Out went the sweet, awkward – pitifully high school date request – and in came Bones’ talented tongue as a wonderful reminder that they had, in fact, been intimate for years now. There was absolutely no reason on earth to feel awkward around Bones. Hell, there wasn’t a doubt in Jim’s mind that Leonard McCoy loved him.

“The bridge-”

“Spock can cover for you. Just this once.” Bones replied, and Jim didn’t need to see his face, tucked against his neck, to know he was smirking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Re-read chapter 3 now if you want to despair that nothing went to plan when they got back to earth.


	15. I'm Looking For Somebody With Whom to Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-Into Darkness; the beginning, and the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from 'With Whom to Dance?', by The Magnetic Fields.

“If physical therapy is tiring you out so much you can’t even put your clothes in the washing basket, then we need to have a serious discussion about you boarding the Enterprise tomorrow.”

Bones’ lecturing voice came in waves of volume as he moved around his bedroom, and Jim grinned into the bathroom mirror at himself. After all their years together, he’d have thought Bones would be used to his moderate disorder by now. On the contrary though, Jim was healthier than he had been in some time. He was alive, at that was a good starting point. He even looked relatively well, if he did say so himself. The heat of the shower had brought some colour to his cheeks, and despite Leonard’s cutting sarcasm, his stamina was back to full strength again. Things weren’t wholly back to normal yet, not by a long shot. He’d died and that still freaked him out. There were still nights when all he could hear was his heartbeat and his ragged breaths as Bones tried to coax him from panic to calm, over and over- however many times he needed to until Jim finally slept. But he was getting there. They all were.

Jim left the bathroom only when he was certain he looked completely dazzling. Like, sweep Bones off his feet hot. He found his friend half changed, though Bones’ motions stilled when he saw Jim, standing awkwardly with one arm already in his shirt.

“Oh.” Bones looked adorable, and Jim smirked wickedly until he gathered his senses. “You look… you look good, kid. Special occasion?”

“Besides being the eve of our five year mission, you mean?” He didn’t mean to tease, but Bones had made such an incessant fuss about how little he was looking forward to the new mission - the danger of space, and how he wouldn’t accept as much as a bruise from Jim in the first month of being out there again. Jim could only hope he didn’t have a reason to end up in medbay any time soon. He was sick of hospitals, more so now than ever. He tried to console himself with the fact it had been a lot harder to recover from Tarsus, and he’d managed that. Of course, he’d also repressed a lot of the stuff after Tarsus, so it wasn’t too much help. That being said, after Tarsus he’d not had quite so good a Doctor as Leonard to help him through every sorry night.

“Don’t remind me.” Bones grumbled. “Well?”

“Well, I owe you a date don’t I, Doctor McCoy?”

A long, long overdue date. He’d been thinking about it ever since things had sort of found a new normal between them; a plateau from which they could both depend on each other, still, whilst slowly coming to terms with the fact that Jim was an injury magnet and Bones was completely responsible for his survival. It had occurred to Jim the first time he slept the whole night through in Bones’ arms after the Khan incident. He’d realised, then, that they were bound by so much more than just playing God. Jim needed Leonard McCoy, and it seemed to be a mutual feeling.  The last time that had happened, before Khan, everything had been so much easier. Pike had still been alive. Jim had seriously been considering an actual, happy ending. Then, the very day he’d promised to take Bones out, he’d lost his ship and his Captaincy. It had crushed him.

Bones had accepted his brief, cold explanation that he was cancelling. He’d understood when Jim had needed to be alone, to be angry- so very angry at Spock. He’d still come to Jim after Pike had died, still tended to his wounds and slept beside him. And when Jim had left him in the night, when Bones had woken alone, he hadn’t complained. He followed Jim back into space, looked after him and his crew, took orders and he sure as hell scared the life out of Jim by almost dying for it.

In all that time, in all the fear and fighting and chasing, Bones hadn’t slept beside Jim again. At the time, he’d barely even paid it attention. He was glad for it, if anything, because Bones didn’t deserve to get caught up in his revenge plot. Then Jim died. Died, without Bones by his side. So yeah, Jim figured it was about time he took his friend out properly. The way he’d promised to. Bones, thankfully, seemed to agree.

“Damn right you do.” Bones replied, pulling his shirt on fully. “Where are we going?”

It seemed sort of inane to even bother dating. Since he was discharged, Jim had lived with Bones – somehow in a more real sense than all their time at the academy. That was being roommates- sharing the odd meal or night together, but still having their own space. This time around, they’d shared everything. Hell, Jim hadn’t even been to his assigned quarters- Spock had brought all his things over for him as soon as it became apparent he wasn’t going to leave Bones’ side again. All their friends knew where Jim had been staying too. If they thought it was friendship or something more, Jim didn’t know. He didn’t particularly care either. But he’d made a promise and he intended to act on it.

Bones moved around the bed, so close Jim could smell the clean, crisp scent of his shirt. Bones always smelled like that. Clean and crisp. Even in the academy. He could pick out that smell anywhere, even beyond his cologne. It wasn’t clinical, the way a hospital stank. It was mint and geraniums and cotton. A hand reached out and cupped Jim’s cheek, steady and comforting. He leaned into the touch, ridiculously, truly fucked. He tried to think of a time when he wasn’t in love with Leonard McCoy, tried to imagine life without him now. Neither worked. At that moment, as with so many moments of Jim’s life, Bones was everything. Close and warm and intoxicating.

“Dinner.” Jim tried not to sound breathless. “And then we’ll catch up with the others at the bar.”

“Good.” Bones sort of smiled. There was an intensity to his gaze that he’d never let show when they were younger. Bones was a passionate, emotional man, but never at that start of their sexual relationship. Back then it had always been an arms distance and angry comments. The man Jim saw now was so open – and willing to be so much more to Jim.

“I’m done with playing now, Jim.” He said decisively. “We’re not cadets anymore. I almost lost you, and I’m not going to let that happen again. I want us to be an actual _us_. I don’t know if you’d noticed, but I love you. A lot, dammit.”

Jim couldn’t help but laugh, softly and briefly. It was that or cry, he thought, and god he was sick of crying too. If he could go back in time and tell his sixteen year old self that eventually he’d be an emotional, physical wreck committing to an actual relationship, stuck together on a Starship in Space… man, he’d probably drive another car off a cliff. But that kid hadn’t met Bones yet, so he couldn’t possibly understand what it meant to commit to Leonard McCoy.

“Yeah, I know. I love you too.” He said, smoothing Bones’ shirt out absently until lips hit his and he was momentarily distracted. Bones felt like home, as he was pulled in close for a hug, and he contemplated not leaving the apartment at all for just a moment. “We’re gonna be fine, Bones. We’re gonna be good.” He said into Bones’ neck.

“We better be.” Bones snorted. “C’mon, I’m starving.”

Jim grinned devilishly, pulling away and picking up his jacket from the bed. “You’re gonna love what I’ve planned Bones- it’s gonna blow your mind. Remember the night I passed my interspecies ethics exam and we ended up in that diner?”

“Oh for f- Dammit Jim, we were both plastered- and I’d been awake for about 24 hours!” Bones followed him through to the door, picking up his wallet and com on the way. It was sickeningly domestic, and Jim loved it. He couldn’t help but grin so hard his cheeks hurt. Soon they’d be tucked away on the Enterprise, leading lives almost unfathomably atypical, so he’d enjoy this while he could. Before the wallet and com turned into tricorder and regenerator, usually heading in Jim’s direction.

“Don’t worry, Bones, I’m not an actual idiot. No, there’s a real nice place right opposite it. I had to use my name to get a table, and you know how much I hate that. It was insane.” He didn’t have to turned around to know the look of utter exasperation on his friend’s -hell, no - on his _boyfriend’s_ face. Even so, the Doctor’s strong, steady hand slipped into his and his beating heart wasn’t a bad thing at all. It was love, and it was incredible.

 

 

The bar that Nyota had chosen for the senior crew’s final earth celebration before taking off was kind of nice. A far cry from then place Jim had first met his Communications Officer, but fitting for the crew of Starfleet’s flagship. Jim wasn’t allowed to drink any more than what he’d already consumed at dinner with Bones. Although he’d passed Starfleet regulations, he wasn’t completely up to his personal weight targets and he was still on a moderately strict diet. Maybe he was getting old, but even if Bones wasn’t by his side he probably wouldn’t have wanted to drink excessively anyway. It was more fun watching Chekov try to keep up with Scotty.

“Jim. Doctor.” Spock greeted them, not drinking but not looking particularly put out by the tipsy humans surrounding him. Jim felt weirdly proud of him. “I trust you have had a pleasant evening.” He said, and fucking hell was that the equivalent of a _knowing smile_ from a half-Vulcan who Jim would have claimed couldn’t feel not too long ago.

“Very pleasant thank you, Spock. Are we super late?”

“No, Captain. You are precisely 13.4 minutes later than Mister Chekov, who was the last to arrive.”

Jim grinned at Spock’s precision- even if the short time frame sort of concerned him considering the rate their young friend was going at it. A hangover was nothing that Bones couldn’t cure- he’d certainly had enough experience, in any case. But Bones liked to make people suffer for their sins before helping them, sort of like the opposite of a benevolent Doctor. Or maybe it was just for Jim he adorned such cruel methods. Jim watched Pavel anyway, trying not to be concerned because for fuck’s sake- he wasn’t _that_ old- he wasn’t the damn kid’s dad. He smiled back when Chekov noticed him watching and beamed at him, waving excitedly. His eyes flitted between Jim and Leonard a little too obviously, and Jim simply smiled still.

“- and why not just call him Pavel, Spock, for the love of all that’s holy. This is supposed to be a party. The kid’s damn name is Pavel. And mine is Leonard, in case those pointed ears of yours hadn’t caught it. I honestly don’t know how Jim puts up with you-”

Jim stopped paying attention again, resting his head against Bones’ shoulder and observing the bar quietly, distantly aware that Spock had replied with something that made Bones start pointing angrily at him with his free hand. The bar was packed, mostly Starfleet. It didn’t matter whether they were his crew or not, they were still staring at him. _The_ Jim Kirk. It was sort of insane. If they knew the man he was clinging to was the one who’d got him up to space in the first place, let alone kept alive since then.

Their friends knew, though. Nyota and Chapel, sat closely, opposite Scotty, Chekov and Sulu. Jim watched them, torn between amusement and outrage, as Nyota shamelessly handed Scotty a wad of cash as she made defiant eye contact with her Captain. Jim stifled a laugh behind a cough.

“Hey, are you okay?” Bones said suddenly, squeezing his hand a little and tilting his head towards him. “You normally cut us off by now. You need to sit down, Jimmy?”

“No, I’m fine. I was just thinking. C’mon-Spock, get everyone a round would you? On me.” Spock agreed silently, moving away to the bar. In his absence, Jim offered Bones his other hand. “If I remember correctly, the last time we danced together was Christmas of our last year at the Academy.”

“I don’t think you can call that dancing, kid. You almost got us kicked out of the club.” Despite his supposed dislike of public displays of affection, he hadn’t minded in the dark of that club, and he didn’t seem to mind now either. Bones moved closer, holding Jim a little tighter. Jim got it, understood with such clarity he could have screamed it from the rooftops. Years of silence. Years of being everything, just behind closed doors. Finally they’d gotten their act together and Bones _could_ hold him in public. It was a sensation he hoped he’d never grow tired of, and was sure he never would.

“We danced when we got home.” Jim pointed out, smiling at the memory.

“Now, that definitely wasn’t dancing.”

“Jesus, Bones, I’m trying to woo you here! Dinner, drinks and dancing.” Perhaps it was the most ridiculous thing Jim had ever done in his life – and he’d done a hell of a lot before Bones in the pursuit of sex – but Jim fluttered his eyelashes at the Doctor hopefully. The best part was, he knew he didn’t need to. He had nothing to be nervous about in dating the man who already knew him inside out.

“Would you deny my poor, romantic heart?”

“Not a single day it’s beating, Kid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone for your comments and support! 
> 
> I'm wrapping this up for now, but it's been a blast.


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